#;£i- -- 







THE CELEBRATED 
MADAME GAMPAN 




^z^ 



-T^z-e-' (s:2c(/?'yi/i.£i;y?2^. 



THE CELEBRATED 
MADAME GAMPAN 



LADY-IN-WAITING TO MARIE ANTOINETTE 
AND CONFIDANTE OF NAPOLEON 



BY 

VIOLETTE M. MONTAGU 

AUTHOR OF 

"SOPHIE DAWES, QUEEN OF CHANTILLY " 

"THE ABB^ EDGEWORTH AND HIS FRIENDS" 

' EUGfeNE DE BEAUHARNAIS, THE ADOPTED SON OF NAPOLEON ' 

ETC. ETC. 



PHILADELPHIA 

J. B. LIPPINGOTT COMPANY 

LONDON: EVELEIGH NASH 
1914 



JuGi 



37 



S' 



,C 



3S' 



V 



APR 1 8 1884 



i5 



^ 

1 



TO 

MY MOTHER 

TO WHOM I OWE THIS BOOK 



PREFACE 

'Tis but a mediocre author who needs to apologize for 
his sins of omission or commission before the Argus- 
eyed critic has had time to rend the ewe-lamb to 
pieces ; the apologies, like the tears in Heine's im- 
mortal Lyrisches Intermezzo, usually come after the 
frail bark has been launched upon the sea of Literature 
to be wrecked on the sharp rocks of Criticism, become 
becalmed in the Arctic Circle of Oblivion, or per- 
chance sail with the chosen few into the peaceful 
harbour of that ultima thule — Popularity. 

I fear it will be said that I have taken strange 
liberties with Mme Campans Memoirs, from which the 
first part of my book was gleaned. Why are those 
interesting memoirs so little read in England nowa- 
days ? Perhaps because they fill three volumes — who, 
in this age of hurry, takes the trouble or has the 
leisure to read anything so lengthy ? — perhaps because 
they are written in a somewhat stilted manner, lack 
sequence, and contain too many repetitions of the 
same fact, and perhaps because the authoress mentions 
several persons who are mere names to the general 
public, and concludes just at the most poignant period 
of the Revolution. And yet the story of her own 
adventures during the Reign of Terror is full of 
exciting situations. In Part I : At the Court of 
Marie Antoinette, I have been careful to omit none 
of the chief events mentioned by the queen's waiting- 
woman, I have furnished explanatory notes and 

vii 



PREFACE 

biographies of the personages who flit across the stage, 
and have endeavoured to keep to the original diapason. 

The second part of my book : The Governess of 
the Bonapartes, is taken from contemporary memoirs, 
and contains extracts from Mme Campan's corre- 
spondence with her favourite pupil, Hortense de 
Beauharnais, the wife of Louis Bonaparte, and the 
mother of Napoleon iii, which letters have never been 
translated into English ; they throw many side-lights 
upon the Emperor's home-life, for Mme Campan, 
both as waiting-woman to Marie Antoinette, and as 
governess to the Imperial family, enjoyed the con- 
fidence of her masters, and heard many secrets which 
led to the undoing of more than one of those masters. 

So great was Mme Campan's fame, not only in 
Europe but also in America and India, as the 
governess of Pauline, Caroline, and Charlotte Bona- 
parte and Hortense, Stephanie, and Emilie de 
Beauharnais, and of many of the beautiful and witty 
women who adorned Napoleon's Court — which Mme 
Campan had helped to form — that when that great 
Emperor organized the first Imperial Educational 
Establishment of the Legion of Honour at Ecouen, 
he gave Mme Campan the post of directress. 

My intention in writing this book has been to 
present a faithful picture of the France of the (Eil 
de Bceuf 2.nd of that greater France when no educa- 
tion was considered complete without a sojourn in 
Paris, that Parnassus whither Napoleon, the master- 
mind, invited the world's most gifted artists, musicians, 
litUrateurs, scientists, and thinkers, 

VIOLETTE M. MONTAGU. 
Paris, 19 14. 

viii 



CONTENTS 



PART I 
AT THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 

CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

Birth of Henriette Genest — The origin of the Genest family — 
Education of the future lectrice — Henriette accepts her first 
situation — She makes the acquaintance of the Roi Bien-Ainie 
— Mesdames de France . . . . . . i 

CHAPTER II 

Louis XV surprises his daughters' lectrice in the act of making 
" cheeses " — Madame Louise takes the veil — Arrival in France 
of Marie Antoinette — Henriette loses her heart — Mesdames 
try to find a husband for their lectrice — The origin of the 
Campan family — Marie Antoinette makes Henriette Campan 
her waiting-woman — Mesdames^ hatred for Marie Antoinette — 
Mesdames go to Bellevue, and Henriette leaves their service — 
The Court is jealous of Mme Campan's influence . . 26 

CHAPTER III 

The duties of the queen's waiting-woman — A day at Versailles — 
Marie Antoinette adopts a little peasant-boy — Birth of the 
queen's eldest child — Mesmer pays a visit to Paris — M. Campan 
tries one of the famous physician's cures — Birth of the first 
Dauphin — Indiscreet well-wishers — The young mother re- 
ceives a deputation from the ladies of the Paris markets — The 
comtes d'Haga and du Nord pay a visit to Versailles — 
Madame Royale goes to see her great-aunt Louise . . 46 

CHAPTER IV 

The affair of the queen's necklace — Birth of Mme Campan's only 
child — Death of Madame Louise — Unpopularity of Marie 
Antoinette — Death of the first Dauphin . . .66 

ix 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER V 

PAGE 

The queen is persuaded to take an interest in politics— The first 
stroke of midnight — Versailles receives a visit from the populace 
— The queen prepares to go to the Tuileries — Her friends begin 
to leave her — " Balthasar's Feast " — Versailles is visited for the 
second time and the palace invaded — The royal family are 
escorted to Paris — The queen confides a delicate mission to 
her hairdresser ....... 86 

CHAPTER VI 

The royal family at the Tuileries — The Favras affair— The comte 
d'Inisdal endeavours to save the king — Rumours are circu- 
lated that the queen is about to be poisoned — A demonstra- 
tion of affection — Mme Campan acts as the king's secretary — 
The insurrection at Nancy — The queen's dislike for M. de 
Lafayette — Mme Campan is asked to make a sacrifice — Mes- 
dames leave France . . . . . . iq6 

CHAPTER VII 

The queen makes further preparations for flight — M. Campan /(?r5 
is recommended to take a cure — Mme Campan bids farewell 
to her mistress — She hears of the fiasco of Varennes — Marie 
Antoinette sends for her waiting- woman — She returns to Paris 
and again receives proofs of her ^mistress's confidence — She 
suffers for her brother's opinions — An echo of an old affair — 
Mme Campan accepts some delicate missions . . . 127 

CHAPTER VIII 

Marie Antoinette changes her bedroom — Mme Campan provides 
the king with some strange garments — Attempt upon the 
queen's life — The king's imprudence — A false alarm — Petion 
pays a visit to the Tuileries — The palace is besieged — Mme 
Campan has a narrow escape — She is allowed to see the 
royal prisoners at the Feuillants .... 152 

CHAPTER IX 

-Doubts are expressed concerning the decease of M. Campan /i?r^ 
— A dangerous trust — Mme Campan goes to Versailles— The 
king's female armourer threatens to turn informant — Trial and 
execution of Louis xvi — Marie Antoinette follows her husband 
— An order is issued for the arrest of Mme Campan and her 
sister — Mme Auguie commits suicide — Mme Campan takes 
her motherless nieces to live with her . . , .179 



CONTENTS 

PART II 

THE GOVERNESS OF THE BONAPARTES 

CHAPTER X 

PAGE 

Mme Campan realizes her vocation and opens a school — She is 
persecuted by the Directoire — Maman Campan earns her title 
and the affection of her pupils — The Seminary at Montagne 
de Bon-Air has many imitators — Hortense and Emilie de 
Beauharnais, Pauline and Caroline Bonaparte join the school — 
Pauline marries General Leclerc — Napoleon the match-maker 191 

CHAPTER XI 

A prize-giving at Mme Campan's establishment — The First Consul 
assists at a performance of Esther — The prince of Orange 
creates a sensation by his behaviour — Marriage of Caroline 
Bonaparte to Murat — Hortense goes to dwell at the Tuileries 
— Mme Campan nearly incurs the First Consul's displeasure 
— Charlotte Bonaparte comes to Saint-Germain . .215 

CHAPTER XII 

A fashionable boarding-school in the beginning of the nineteenth 
century — Anglomania and the anges gardiens — Mme Campan 
gives Hortense de Beauharnais good advice concerning the 
choice of a husband — Two more members of the de Beauharnais 
family come to Saint- Germain — One of Mme Campan's former 
pupils incurs the First Consul's displeasure — The young ladies 
fete the signing of the Treaty of Luneville — Peace is concluded 
with England — Hortense is betrothed to Louis Bonaparte — 
General Bonaparte finds a wife for General Davout — Felicite 
Fodoas becomes Mme Savary ..... 236 

CHAPTER XIII 

Mme Campan is able to put aside " a crust of bread " for her 
old age — Eliza Monroe — The young ladies of Saint-Germain 
embroider a map of the French Republic — Hortense de 
Beauharnais marries Louis Bonaparte — The Peace of Amiens 
is signed — Mme Moreau again arouses the First Consul's 
wrath — Mme Bonaparte finds a husband for one of Mme 
Campan's nieces — Birth of Hortense's first child — The happy 
days of Mme Campan — Another of her nieces marries — The 
Emperor asks Mme Campan to help him form his Court — 
The Emperor and the Orphans of Austerlitz — Stephanie de 
Beauharnais is married to the hereditary prince of Baden . 263 

xi 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XIV 

PAGE 

Extravagance of Napoleon's cuisinieres — The Emperor deputes 
Mme de Lavalette to curb Josephine's passion for spending — 
Hortense becomes queen of Holland — Mme Campan's plans 
appear likely to miscarry — She is appointed directress of the 
Establishment of the Legion of Honour at Ecouen— A girls' 
boarding-school during the Empire .... 288 

CHAPTER XV 

The queen of Holland pays a visit to Ecouen — Stephanie Tascher 
de La Pagerie marries the prince d'Arenberg — The Emperor's 
birthday is kept by the Orphans of Austerlitz — Napoleon 
comes to inspect his protegees — The queen of Holland is 
made patroness of Ecouen — Napoleon's divorce — Lolotte 
Bonaparte returns to France — Mme Campan meets with a 
serious accident — Napoleon and Marie Louise visit Ecouen — 
France is invaded . . . . • • 3^^ 



CHAPTER XVI 

Abdication of Napoleon — The Emperor Alexander pays a visit to 
Mme Campan and makes a strange confession — The queen 
of Holland as duchesse de Saint-Leu — Mme Campan bids 
farewell to Ecouen — She suffers for Napoleon's favours — She 
obtains an audience with the duchesse d'Angouleme — 
Generosity of ", Petite Bonne"— The Hundred Days' Wonder 
— The Silver Lilies give place to the Golden Bees — Napoleon 
finds time to review his " little bees " — Farewell to France — 
The White Terror claims its victims .... 335 



CHAPTER XVII 

Mme Campan moves house for the last time — Her son comes to 
live with her — Her last pupils — Illness and death of her only 
child — She pays a visit to "Petite Bonne" — The finger of 
Death touches her — One of Napoleon's braves — She lays down 
her burden ....... 355 



Index . . . . . . • -375 



Xll 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Mme Campan ..... Frontispiece 



Marie Antoinette ..... 

From an Eighteenth-Century Painting, French School, 

Madame Royale ..... 

From a Painting by Greuze. 

Madame Ad:^la'ide ..... 

From a Painting by NATTIER. 

Madame Victoire ..... 

From a Painting by GuiARD. 

Madame Elisabeth ..... 

From a Painting by Le Brun, 

Marie Antoinette and her Children . 

From a Painting by Le Brun. 

Hortense de Beauharnais 

From a Portrait by Francois Gerard at the Musfe Calvet, Avignon 

Emilie de Beauharnais (Comtesse de Lav alette) 
Caroline Bonaparte, with her daughter Marie 

From a Painting by Le Brun. 

Stephanie de Beauharnais 

From a Painting by Gerard. 

Pauline Bonaparte .... 

From a Painting by Le Fi:vRE. 

Hortense de Beauharnais 

From the Painting by Regranet. 

xiii 



FACING PAGE 
32 



64 

90 

124 

160 

186 

196 

208 
224 

246 

256 

328 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 



Mme Campan . . Memoires (3 volumes). 
Le dix-aotlt. 
De r Education. 
Manuel de lajeune Mere. 
Conseils aus jeunes filles. 
Lettres de deux jeunes amies. 
Theatre d^ Education. 
Correspondance inedite avec la reine Hortense 

(2 volumes). 
Journal anecdotique de Mme Campan. 
Memoires. 
. Mem-oires de Mesdames. 
. Discours sur P education des filles. 
Fleisch- Dessous de princesses et marechales de V Empire. 



Dr. Maigne . 
General Rapp 
montigny 
Fenelon . 
Hector 

MANN 

Leonce 

TONNE 
COMTE FlEURY 

Casimir Stryien 

SKI 

Jean M^jan . 



DE Bro- Les Bonaparte et leurs alliances. 



Les drames de VHistoire. 
Mesdames de France. 



Les Filles de la Legioit d Honneur. 



Napoleo7i et la reine Hortense., d'apres le journal de la lectrice. 



M. Mercier . 
CoMTE E. DE Bar 

THELEMY 

Joseph Turquan 



Madame de Lavalette. 
Mesdames de France. 



Stephanie de Beauharnais. 

Madame la ditches se d' Angouleme. 

La Generate Bonaparte. 

U hnperatrice Josephine. 

La Reine Hortense. 

Les Soeurs de Napoleon. 
Lucien Gayet . Les Sceurs de Napoleon. 
M. T. . . . Memoires historiques de Mesdames. 
Ernest Hamel . Histoire de la Revolution Jranqaise. 
Frederic Loliee . Talleyrand. 

XV 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 



J. J. Rousseau 

ViCOMTE DE REISET 

Albert Savine 
Jean Harmand 

W. F. VAN SCHEEL- 

TEN 
COMTE DE LAVA- 

LETTE 
COMTESSE DE 

BOIGNE 
Mlle COCHELET . 

Georgette Du- 

crest 
Leonard . 



Le prince Lucien Bonaparte etsafamtUe 



Julie, ou la nouvelle Heloise. 

Louise cPEsparbes. 

Madame Elisabeth et ses Amies. 

Madame de Genlis. 

Metnoires. 

Memoires. 

Memoires. 

Memoires. 

Memoires sur VImpiratrice Josephine. 

Souvenirs. 



Th. Jung 
Frederic Masson . 
Georges Lenotre. 
C. d'Arjuzon . 
Mme de Blocque- 

VILLE 

Rene Savary. 
General Victor • 
m. j. nollet . 
Charles Maurice 

Talleyrand 
Stephanie Ory . 
Paul Marmottan . 
Emmanuel de 

Beaufond 
A. L. d'Eckmuhl . 
Mme de Remusat . 
Funck-Brentano . 
Henri Houssaye . 

11 
Henri Welsch- 

inger 

COMTE FEDOR 

golowkine 
George Clinton 

Genet 
A. HiLLIARD Atte- 

RIDGE 
A. HILLIARD ATTE- 

RIDGE 



Memoires de Lucien Bonaparte. 

La Malmaison pendant le Consulat. 

Le jnariage de Josephine. 

Hortense de Beauharnais. 

Le marechal Davout racontepar les siens. 

Memoires. 

Memoires. 

Vie du marechal Girard. 

Memoires. 

Soirees d'Ecouen. 
Elisa Bonaparte. 
Elisa Bonaparte. 

Le marechal Davout. 

Memoires. 

Le Collier de la reine. 

La Joiirnee d'une grande dame. 

1815 : Les Cent-Jours. 

Le marechal Ney, 1815. 

La cour et le regne de Paul I. 

A Family Record oj Nefs Execution. 

Napoleon's Brothers. 

Marshal Ney : the Bravest of the Brave. 

xvi 



THE 

CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

FIRST PART 

AT THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE 



CHAPTER I 

Birth of Henriette Genest — The origin of the Genest family — Education 
of the future lectrice — Henriette accepts her first situation — She 
makes the acquaintance of the Roi Bien-Aime — Mesdames de 
France. 

"The child is father of the man," wrote William 
Wordsworth, the English Orpheus, who sang so 
sweetly of sun-kissed hills and sleepy dales, of 
whispering brooklets flowing through mossy channels, 
of Nature in all her phases. He himself was a proof 
of this fact, for he began to write his simple rhymes 
at the early age of nine years. 

How differently children amuse themselves ! One 
child will spend hours drilling tin soldiers ; another 
will perform disastrous surgical operations upon his 
little sister's favourite doll ; this one is content to 
pick out tunes on the piano by the hour ; that one, 
with a taste for gardening, will, with a calm disregard 
for the rules of agriculture, plant and sow, graft and 
water, and occasionally pull up the plants in his own 

A 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

garden — and sometimes in other people's too — to 
see how they are "getting on." Admiring relatives 
exclaim, " This child will be a great soldier when he 
grows up ; that one will be a famous surgeon ; this 
one will rival Beethoven ; that one will ' invent ' a 
new rose." But what shall we say of a little girl 
who, at twelve years of age, on passing in the street 
what is called in schoolroom parlance " a crocodile," 
feels an irrestible longing to play the little mother to 
each and every member of that flock ? Such a child 
was the little Henriette Genest, the future lectrice of 
Mesdames de France, the waiting- woman of Marie 
Antoinette, and the governess of the Bonapartes, the 
de Beauharnais, and many mardchales and duchesses 
— Bonaparte's cuisinieres, as the Royalists termed them 
during the Restoration. Hers was an eventful life, 
less lengthy than that of Mme de Genlis, untouched 
by the breath of scandal, a life which began in the 
reign of Louis xv and ended during that of 
Louis xviii ; she lived amid the luxurious Court of 
Louis le Bien-Aimd, regretted the follies enacted at 
the Petit Trianon, wept for the horrors perpetrated 
during the Reign of Terror, groaned under the 
oppressive yoke of the Directoire, basked in the 
splendour of the Empire, and died after witnessing 
the pitiful fiasco of the return of the Bourbons. In 
Mme Campan, as this little girl afterwards became, 
the maternal instinct was very strongly marked. 

Born in Paris, October 6, 1752, Henriette Genest 
(or Genet, as the name was sometimes pronounced 
in those days, and as it is now written by the 
American descendants of Edmond Charles Genest, 
Mme Campan's brother) was the eldest child of a 



HENRIETTE'S BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD 

numerous family and, as such, early commenced her 
career as a little mother. As she herself tells us in 
her memoirs, she could not boast of either rich or 
noble ancestry ; her father, at the time of her birth, 
held a fairly lucrative post at the Foreign Office, 
which he owed to his talents and to his love of hard 
work. The story of the marriage of little Henriette's 
parents is a pretty echo of the days when young 
people were content to begin life in a humble way, 
possessed of far fewer of this world's goods than any 
sane person would dream of setting up house with 
nowadays, but endowed with an inexhaustible store of 
courage with which to face the ups and downs of 
daily existence. 

"On aimait de mon temps. La femme qu'on prenait 
Etait pauvre souvent, mais on n'y songeait gu^re. 
La misfere venait, on lui faisait la guerre. 
On luttait vaillamment . . . 

On vivait, mon ami, mais on vivait sans faste . . . 
Le mobilier petit : le meuble le plus beau 
N'avait pas coute cher, ce n'etait qu'un berceau." ^ 

M. Genest, Henriette's father, was the eldest child 
of Edm^ Jacques Genest, who for twenty years was 
secretary in Spain to Cardinal Alberoni, the prot^g^ 
of the due de Vendome. M. Edme Genest brought 
back with him from Spain the sum of 200,000 livres, 
part of which he invested in landed property, while he 
paid 80,000 livres for the purchase of the office of 
head-crier at the Chatelet — a good investment, for 
it brought him in an income of something like 15,000 
francs a year, not won without plenty of hard work, 
however ; but his experience as the secretary of 
Cardinal Alberoni had probably accustomed him to 
* Leopold Laluyd, Les Mdnages cC autrefois. 

3 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

work ; and then, as we shall see later, industry must 
have been a family trait. 

Having settled his future to his complete satisfac- 
tion, M. Genest began to look about for a wife. 
During a visit to a relative living in a convent in the 
Faubourg Saint-Germain, M. Genest noticed a pretty 
young girl who, like himself, frequently paid visits to 
friends or relatives living in the same religious institu- 
tion. This young lady's name was Jeanne Louise de 
Beam ; she belonged to an old French family, but 
she had had to endure many slights and much con- 
tumely during her childhood owing to the fact that 
her father, a Catholic, had married a Protestant at a 
time when such unions were considered illegal unless 
they had been solemnized in both churches. M. 
Genest having asked for Jeanne Louise's hand in 
marriage, the couple were married, and a very happy 
pair they were, notwithstanding M. Genest's rather 
narrow mind. They had many children ; only two, 
however, survived infancy. The eldest of these was 
Henriette's father, who seems to have been a most re- 
markable and gifted creature ; at four years of age he 
could write a letter unaided. As the boy showed 
great elocutionary gifts, his father determined that 
this wonder should be a lawyer. After spending 
some time at the College de Navarre in Paris, the 
boy was given into the charge of some Jesuit priests 
with whom his father was on the best of terms. At 
fifteen years of age, young Genest carried off all the 
first prizes. His proud father then sent him to the 
University of Paris, where he quickly became 
acquainted with the cleverest students, many of 
whom afterwards became members of the Acadimie 

4 



HENRIETTE'S FATHER 

frangaise, and these friends he kept all his life. His 
studies finished, he found himself face to face with the 
problem, What profession should he choose? His 
own desire was to enter the diplomatic career ; this 
wish, however, did not meet with his father's approval. 
And when he informed M. Genest pere that he had 
followed his example and had fallen in love with a 
well-born but dowerless girl with many impecunious 
relatives, a certain Mile Cardon, his father called him 
a fool and swore he would never give his consent to 
the marriage. 

It must be allowed that young Genest's life after 
leaving college was not a pleasant one. His father, 
who only cared for two things, religious ceremonies 
and law, wished his son to attend Mass daily, go to 
confession two or three times a month, communicate 
every month, never miss High Mass or Vespers, and 
walk with him in all the religious processions which 
periodically took place in his parish church, Saint- 
Sulpice. At home the youth was expected to retire 
to the drawing-room and repeat the rosary after 
dinner ; but this he did with such reluctance that 
painful scenes were frequently enacted between the 
priest-ridden lawyer and the student, whose one wish 
was to be allowed to go to his room and con his 
beloved books in peace. In vain the father tried to 
mould his talented son to his own pattern : severity, 
reproaches, coldness, had no effect. So painful was 
the poor youth's position at this time that he 
determined, if he ever had children of his own, never 
to err on the side of severity, but rather seek to be 
their friend and guide. In his mother alone young 
Genest found affection and sympathy. 

5 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

M. Genest pere then began to treat his son as if 
he were unfit to consort with his family. He was 
made to take his meals by himself, or else to sit 
through a chilly family reunion amid a mournful 
silence occasionally relieved by a dry disquisition 
concerning some point in liturgy. From time to 
time his father would call him into his study and 
repeat to him the oft-told tale that, unless he mended 
his ways, he would certainly come to a bad end, which 
fate he gave him two chances to avoid — one, by enter- 
ing the legal profession ; the other, by marrying a rich 
wife, when the father promised to obtain for him the 
position of councillor at the Chitelet. But with the 
latter scheme the youth would have nothing to do ; 
he might have reminded his father with impunity that 
he had not sold himself to a rich wife, but had chosen 
his companion for her beauty and virtue. The first 
scheme, after due consideration, appeared almost 
equally distasteful, for it meant that, while finishing 
his studies, he would have to remain under the 
parental roof-tree. However, the young prodigal was 
not without sympathizers, some of whom, strange to 
say, were M. Genest's most devout fellow-worshippers 
at Saint-Sulpice. The youth, encouraged by the 
knowledge that he had his mother's support, held out 
for two or three months, during which time he was 
not allowed to appear in the drawing-room and had 
to be content with meals snatched when the irate 
head of the house was absent. After several weeks 
of this misery, M. Genest pere gave his consent to 
his son going to Germany, where the youth proposed 
to complete his education and acquire the German 
language. On bidding his son farewell, the old 

6 



JOURNEYS END IN LOVERS MEETING 

gentleman gave him his blessing, a gold watch, 1500 
livres in gold, and commands never again to appear 
in his presence. The night before the prodigal 
started on his journey, his mother slipped into his 
room, where he was packing his few belongings, and, 
with many tears and exhortations to work hard and 
earn his father's praise, pressed into his hand a little 
bundle of louis, which she, with infinite trouble, un- 
known to her husband, had managed to economize 
from household expenses. She promised to try to 
soften the father's heart during her son's absence. 
With the first rays of dawn, the prodigal left his home, 
and set out on the long journey which was to end in 
lovers meeting. After spending two or three years 
in Germany, young Genest went over to England, 
where he learnt the language and completed his 
studies. It is probable that the lovers corresponded 
during their separation ; for young Genest, on attain- 
ing his majority five years after his departure from 
France, determined to return, claim his bride, and 
marry without his father's consent if he could not do 
so otherwise. In order to avoid detection, he entered 
Paris disguised as an abbe. Having ascertained 
that Mile Cardon had not changed her mind during 
his absence, he obtained an interview with his mother 
in a friend's house, when he informed her of his 
determination, and begged her not to mention his 
return to his father. As Fate would have it, the 
pretended abbe was passing in a cab outside the 
parental door when the vehicle broke down just at 
the very moment when the unyielding father happened 
to be stepping into the street. On relating the 
accident to his wife, M. Genest remarked that the 

7 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

young abb^ whom he had seen extracted with some 
difficulty from the ruins of the cab, bore such an 
extraordinary resemblance to his son that, if he had 
not received the very evening before a letter from 
London, he would have sworn that the prodigal had 
returned to his husks and swine. On learning- the 
truth, his wrath burst forth afresh. However, after a 
fortnight spent in absorbing subtle doses of flattery 
and persuasion discreetly administered by his wife, 
household, and friends, he gave his consent to his 
son's marriage with the dowerless beauty. While 
matters were being arranged, young Genest busied 
himself correcting the proofs of his first book — a 
volume of essays upon England, the result of his 
visit to that country. After his marriage, which took 
place in 1751, the young husband invited his wife's 
parents, her brother, who had just been called to the 
Bar, and two younger brothers to live under his roof. 
His wife's parents had an annuity of 2000 livres (£Zo), 
and this, including what the young husband earned, 
had to feed and clothe seven people. Luckily, soon 
after his marriage, M. Genest's essays upon England 
having been read and appreciated at Versailles, he 
was summoned to appear at Court by the marshal de 
Belle-Isle, the grandson of the celebrated Fouquet, 
and himself a distinguished diplomatist, who made 
him interpreter to the Admiralty and the War and 
the Foreign Offices. He now had clerks to work 
under him, and had it not been for the burden of 
his wife's brothers, the eldest of whom he tended 
through a long and fatal illness caused by excesses, 
and the two youngest whom he educated and placed 
in the French army, he might have lived very com- 

8 



EDUCATION OF HENRIETTE GENEST 

fortably notwithstanding the facts that his salary was 
none too large, and that the family cradle was filled 
every year with a new little occupant which had to 
be fed, clothed, and educated — that is to say, if it 
survived the Spartan treatment accorded to infants in 
those days. 

In 1762 M. Genest was sent to England on a 
mission, which he executed so entirely to the satis- 
faction of the due de Choiseul, that " poor imitation of 
a great man among the pigmies of the reign of Louis 
XV," that he was rewarded with the post of chief 
clerk at the Foreign Office. 

Though the family purse was often nearly empty, 
M. Genest's pride forbade him to appeal to his father 
for help ; he preferred to hamper himself with one of 
those sops to Cerberus, a mortgage for 50,000 ^cus. 
He was not able to free himself from this burden 
until his father's death in 1767, when, having paid all 
his debts, he found himself possessed of the sum of 
100,000 francs, four daughters, and a son still in the 
cradle. 

M. Genest, the tenderest of fathers, determined 
that his children should have a good education. 
Their first teacher was a Mile Paris, who had a niece 
about the same age as Henriette, whom M. Genest 
kindly allowed to spend her holidays with her aunt. 
This little girl was very pretty, and apparently as 
modest and innocent as her playmates. When she 
was twelve years of age, M. Genest, judging that 
the friendship had lasted long enough, and perhaps 
noticing some evil trait in his children's companion, 
gave Mile Paris to understand that her niece, who 
was probably destined to become a milliner or a 

9 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

dressmaker, had better not associate with his children 
any longer. 

About ten years after this rupture, the future 
due de la Vrilliere, at that time the comte de Saint- 
Florentin, came to see M. Genest, when the following 
conversation took place : — 

" Have you an elderly woman named Paris in 
your employ ? " asked M. de Saint- Florentin. 

** Yes," replied M. Genest, who had refused to 
dismiss the woman after she had brought up all his 
children, and had given her a home when she was 
past work. 

** Do you know her young niece ? " 

To this question M. Genest replied that he had 
formerly allowed the child to spend her holidays with 
his children, but that ten years ago he had thought 
fit to forbid her his house. 

"You acted very wisely," observed his visitor, 
"for since I have been in office I have never met 
with a more bold-faced intriguer than this little minx. 
She, with her lies, has compromised our august 
sovereign, our pious princesses, Mesdames Adelaide 
and Victoire, and that estimable priest. Father Baret, 
the curd of Saint-Louis, who, in consequence of her 
falsehoods, has been forbidden to exercise his sacred 
duties until the infamous intrigue has been completely 
cleared up. The young woman is now in the Bastille. 
Just imagine : she, with her clever lies, has managed 
to obtain over 60,000 francs from divers credulous 
folk at Versailles ; to some she swore she was the 
king's mistress, making them accompany her to the 
glass door leading to his apartments, and even 
going so far as to enter by his private door, which 

10 



ATTEMPT TO MURDER LOUIS XV 

she had bribed some of the footmen to open for 
her." 

After relating other crimes, which consisted of 
accusing the curd Baret of having persuaded her 
to take the first step on the road to perdition, of 
extorting money from Mesdames de France, M. de 
Saint-Florentin informed M. Genest that the culprit 
had at last confessed her faults, and was about to be 
transferred to the prison of Sainte-Pelagie. 

Henriette was probably too young to notice any 
peculiarities in the conduct of her first little play- 
mate ; but the memory of the tragic fate of her 
governess's niece served Mme Campan as a good 
excuse for being very careful whom she admitted to 
her boarding school at Saint-Germain. 

Henriette, from her earliest years, displayed a 
remarkable memory. One of the most interesting 
episodes which occurred during her childhood was 
Damiens' attempt to murder Louis xv when she was 
about five years of age and living with her parents 
under the shadow of the palace of Versailles. 

" I remember," says she, " Damiens' attempt to 
assassinate Louis xv. This event made such a deep 
impression upon me that I recollect the minutest 
details of the grief and confusion which reigned that 
day at Versailles as clearly as if it only happened 
yesterday. I was dining with my parents at a friend's 
house ; the salon was lighted by numerous wax 
candles. The guests had just sat down to four card- 
tables when a friend of the family burst into the room 
and, with his face distorted by emotion, gasped out : 
* I am the bearer of terrible news : the king has been 
assassinated ! ' Two of the ladies present immediately 

II 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

fainted. A corporal in the king's bodyguard flung 
his cards on the table, exclaiming : ' I am not sur- 
prised — it is all the fault of those vile Jesuits ! ' ' For 
mercy's sake, take care what you are saying, brother,' 
said a lady, flinging her arms round his neck ; ' do you 
want to get yourself arrested ? ' — ' Arrested ? Why 
should I be arrested, just because I show up those 
scoundrels who want their sovereign to be as bigoted 

o o 

as themselves ? ' My father now entered the room. 
He recommended the company to be careful of what 
they said and did, told us that the wound was not 
fatal, and that we must all go home, because nobody 
could think of playing cards during such a fearful 
crisis. He had fetched a sedan-chair for my mother. 
She took me on her lap. We were then living in the 
Avenue de Paris. I heard sighing and weeping on 
all sides. I saw a man arrested : he was gentleman- 
usher to the king ; he had gone quite crazy, and was 
yelling, * I know them, the villains, the scoundrels ! ' 
The crowd prevented our chair advancing. My 
mother knew the unhappy man who had just been 
arrested ; she gave his name to the mounted guard. 
The officer contented himself with taking the faithful 
servitor to the police station, which was then in the 
same avenue. ... In those days the nation's love for 
its sovereign amounted to a religion, and this attempt 
to assassinate Louis xv led to a number of innocent 
people being arrested. M. de La Serre, at that time 
Governor of the Invalides, his wife, his daughter, and 
some of his servants were arrested because Mile de La 
Serre, who had left her convent that very day in 
order to spend Twelfth Night at her home, had 
been heard to say in her father's drawing-room when 

12 



HENRIETTE BECOMES A PRODIGY 

the news was brought from Versailles, * It is not to 

be wondered at ; I heard Mother N say that it 

was bound to happen sooner or later, because the 

king was not sufficiently religious ! ' Mother N 

and several nuns were cross-examined by the police. 
For some time past the partisans of Port- Royal and 
the partisans of the new sect of philosophers had 
been trying to make the Jesuits unpopular with the 
public ; and of a certainty, although no proof could 
be found against this order, the attempt upon the 
king's life did a good turn to the party which a few 
years later contrived to compass the downfall of the 
Jesuits. That scoundrel Damiens revenged himself 
upon many persons in whose service he had been by 
getting them arrested. When confronted with his 
former masters, he would say to them, ' I have given 
you this fright in order to pay you out for what you 
made me suffer.' " 

When reading the account of the long torture and 
horrible death of Robert le Diable, as Damiens was 
called, the question presents itself whether the 
executioners of Damiens and Ravaillac, the judges 
of the Vehmic Court and the Inquisition, and the 
leaders of that modern abomination, the Russian 
Pogrom, did not make a mockery of Christianity and, 
in the latter case, place themselves on a far lower 
level than their victims. 

At fourteen years of age Henriette Genest was in 
danger of becoming a blue-stocking. Her remark- 
able memory enabled her to learn by heart long 
scenes from Racine's tragedies, which she then recited 
to her father's friends, men of discernment such as 
Rochon de Chabannes and Barthe, both playwrights, 

13 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Duclos, the fascinating Marmontel, and the latter's 
good friend Thomas. Albanesi, the fashionable 
singing-master of the day, taught her to warble 
Lully's charming melodies, while Goldoni, professor 
of Italian to Mesdames de France, the little 
Henriette's future mistresses, instructed her in his 
own musical language. It is probable that Henriette's 
speaking voice was more remarkable than her singing 
voice ; she herself says that French voices, although 
naturally sweet in tone, are neither distinguished for 
compass nor for sonorousness. Rousseau was still 
more severe upon the French school of singing: 
" Let us for ever renounce," says he, " that lugubrious 
and tedious style of singing which is more like the 
crying of a person suffering from the colic than the 
outpourings of a tender passion." 

Henriette's fame soon spread beyond the narrow 
walls of her father's salon. Some ladies at Court 
having mentioned to Mesdames de France the fact 
that M. Genest had a wonderfully clever daughter, 
now in her fifteenth year, who could speak several 
languages, sing and play the harpsichord like an 
angel, and — most valuable asset in the frivolous 
society of those days — had a remarkable gift for 
reading aloud, the king's daughters, who were looking 
for a lectrice, expressed a wish to see this little piece 
of perfection. One interview sufficed. A week later, 
Henriette, wearing a long train, her slender figure 
enclosed in stiff stays and voluminous panniers, with 
her little tear-stained face besmirched with rouge and 
powder, bade farewell to her peaceful home and to 
the little sisters and brother whom she had mothered, 
and entered the splendid palace which was to shelter 

14 



HENRIETTE'S FIRST SITUATION 

her until the Revolution came and drove its numerous 
inhabitants, great and small, into the wide world. 
Though proud of her success, her father was loath to 
let the eldest fledgling spread her wings. Henriette 
tells us : " On the occasion of putting on Court dress 
for the first time, I went into my father's study to 
kiss him and to say good-bye. Tears fell from his eyes. 
He said : 'The princesses will be glad to make use 
of your talents ; great people know how to bestow 
praise graciously, but their praises are often fulsome. 
Do not allow their compliments to elate you too 
much ; rather be on your guard. Whenever you 
receive flattering attentions, you may be sure that 
you will gain an enemy. I warn you, my daughter, 
against the inevitable trials which you, in your new 
career, will have to face ; and I swear on this day, 
when you are about to enjoy your good fortune, if 
I had been able to choose another profession for you, 
never would I have abandoned my beloved child to 
the torments and dangers of Court life.' " 

Versailles, with its labyrinth of narrow passages 
and dark staircases, must have seemed like a horrible 
nightmare to the frightened little lectrice. Marie 
Leczinska, after forty years of fidelity to an unworthy 
husband, had lately died, and the Court had gone into 
deep mourning. On entering the great courtyard, 
Henriette beheld a group of royal coaches drawn 
by horses wearing huge black plumes, led by pages 
and footmen with heavy black shoulder-knots richly 
embroidered with silver spangles. She was then con- 
ducted through the state apartments, the walls of which 
were hung with black cloth, while canopies surmounted 
by more bunches of sable plumes were placed over the 

15 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

arm-chairs of the king and his daughters. No wonder 
that her spirits sank lower and lower the nearer she 
approached the private apartments of Mesdames de 
France. When she was at last ushered into Madame 
Victoire's boudoir, her legs were trembling so she 
could scarcely stand. If she was so terrified on merely 
beholdinof her mistresses, what did she not feel when 
she had to address them ? Her first attempt at 
reading aloud nearly ended in a fiasco. She says : 
•' I could not utter two sentences ; my heart beat, my 
voice trembled, and I turned giddy." Luckily she 
gathered courage as she went along, and at last the 
dreadful ordeal was over. 

Her first interview with her mistresses' father was 
calculated to make her still more nervous. It was 
her ill-luck to meet Louis xv just as he was starting 
on one of his hunting expeditions, and when he 
was surrounded by the usual rabble of courtiers, 
courtesans, time - servers, and place - seekers. On 
seeing a face he did not know, the king inquired of 
one of his courtiers who this quaint, old-fashioned 
little lady was, and then began to catechize his 
daughters' lectrice. 

" Mademoiselle Genest," said he, "I am told that 
you are very learned — that you know four or five 
foreign languages." 

" I only know two, Sire," replied the child, 
trembling with terror for what might come next. 

" Which are they ? " 

"English and Italian." 

" And can you speak them fluently ? " 

"Yes, Sire, very fluently." 

" Well, that is quite enough to drive any husband 

i6 



MESDAMES DE FRANCE 

quite crazy ! " remarked the king as he moved on, 
convulsed with laughter at his own wit, leaving poor 
little Henriette covered with shame and confusion. 

How bitterly Henriette learnt to regret her home 
and the noisy little sisters and brother during those 
first weeks at Versailles ! She never left Mesdames 
apartments except when she accompanied her 
mistresses on those dreary drives in state ; for 
Mesdames, although fond of walking, were forbidden 
by etiquette to walk anywhere but in the palace 
gardens. Sometimes Henriette spent the whole day 
reading to Madame Victoire. 

Of Mesdames de France, the daughters of Louis 
XV, Mme Campan said in after years that, if they had 
not invented occupations for themselves, they would 
have been much to be pitied. After the death of 
their mother, whom they loved, although she did not 
display much affection for her numerous daughters, 
they saw but little of their father, for whose conduct 
they have sometimes been blamed. It was to the 
boudoir of Madame Adelaide that Louis xv was in 
the habit of carrying his morning cup of coffee, when 
Madame Adelaide would ring her bell as a signal to 
announce his arrival to Madame Victoire, who in turn 
would ring for Madame Sophie, and the latter for 
Madame Louise. Now the last-named princess, the 
king's youngest living daughter, was deformed and 
rather lame. As her apartments were situated at 
some distance from Madame Adelaide's boudoir she, 
on hearing the signal, would jump up in great haste 
and limp with all expedition through her sisters' huge 
suites of rooms ; and yet, sometimes, notwithstanding 
all her care, it happened that she could only reach her 
B 17 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

eldest sister's room just in time to kiss her father good- 
bye before he hurried off to his favourite occupation, 
hunting. 

Louis XV had had eight daughters : Elisabeth and 
Henriette, twins, born in 1727, the first of whom 
married the Infante of Spain, while the latter died 
unmarried in 1752; Louise, born 1728, died 1732; 
Adelaide, born 1732; Victoire, born 1733; Sophie, 
born 1734; Marie-Th^rese-F^licite, called Madame 
Sixieme, born 1736, died 1744; and a second Louise, 
called Madame Derniere, born 1737, who later became 
a nun. 

Louis was fond of giving nicknames : his favourite, 
Adelaide, — a certain resemblance to his mother, the 
duchesse de Bourgogne, was said to account for this 
preference, — was called Loque (Scraggy) because she 
was so thin ; Victoire was Coche (Sow) on account of 
her embonpoint ; Sophie was Graille (Carrion-crow), 
and poor deformed Louise, Chiffe (Rags). 

At six o'clock every evening Henriette stopped 
her reading, when Mesda^nes folded up their intermin- 
able pieces of embroidery and prepared to attend the 
king's d^dotter, which ceremony sometimes only lasted 
fifteen minutes. Now etiquette reigned supreme at 
the Court of Versailles, and Mesdames had, before 
going to this ceremony, to array themselves in 
enormous hoops worn over gold embroidered petti- 
coats together with a train, all of which were fastened 
round the waist and thus concealed the deshabille 
underneath. Then, clad in long black taffeta mantles 
which covered them up to the chin and kept them 
from catching cold in draughty passages, the ladies 
would hurry down their private staircase, assist at the 

18 



MESDAMES' EDUCATION 

king's ddbotter, and then return to their own rooms, 
where they would sit down again to their embroidery- 
frames and Henriette would open her book and 
continue where she had left off. 

Mesdames education had been sadly neglected ; 
and it was thanks to Cardinal Fleury that they 
received any education at all. It was at his advice 
that the little princesses were sent to the convent of 
Fontevrault instead of to the fashionable establish- 
ment at Saint-Cyr, where their grandmother, the 
duchesse de Bourgogne, had been educated. The 
Cardinal had furnished as his reason for choosing 
Fontevrault instead of Saint-Cyr that the education 
given at the latter establishment — where, however, 
the rule was so strict that the pupils never had any- 
thing but dry bread for breakfast — was not adapted 
to prepare such future great ladies as Mesdames de 
France for the position which they would soon be 
called upon to occupy. However, it is highly probable 
that the dames de Saint-Cyr were quite as competent, 
or incompetent, as their sisters at Fontevrault ; for 
Madame Louise, at twelve years of age, had not 
contrived to master the alphabet, and she only learnt 
to write after her return to Versailles. 

Mesdames Quatrieme, Cinquieme, Sixieme, and 
Septieme, as they were called, were packed off to 
their convent while the two youngest were still so 
small that they had to be held on their nurses' knees. 
We can picture to ourselves the arrival of the four 
little misses, two of whom, Marie-Th6rese-Felicit^ 
and Louise, remained several years at Fontevrault 
without their parents once taking the trouble to 
come and see them or sending for them. The 

19 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Mother Superior and some of the elder nuns dressed 
themselves in white garments to receive the little 
ones lest their sombre garb should frighten the 
babes. Mesdames made a favourable impression by 
blowing kisses to the crowd of nuns and pupils which 
had assembled to see the Court equipage drive 
through the massive convent-gates. 

The nuns by turns spoiled the young princesses 
horribly or were absurdly strict. Madame Victoire 
was subject all her life to attacks of unreasonable 
terror owing to the fact that when she had been 
naughty she used to be shut up all alone in a dark 
vault used as the nuns' burying-place. On one 
occasion the gardener belonging to the convent was 
bitten by a mad dog ; while he was dying of hydro- 
phobia, the pupils were taken to the chapel to recite 
prayers for the dying, which prayers were frequently 
interrupted by the yells of the poor gardener, who was 
lying in a cottage near by. 

Madame Adelaide was the enfant terrible of the 
convent ; one person alone had the courage to resist 
her imperious will, and that person was her dancing- 
master, and the only one of Mesdames professors who 
had been allowed to follow them to Fontevrault. 
The dancing-master once wanted to teach the young 
princess a new and fashionable dance called the 
menuet rose. Adelaide took it into her head to 
baptize the dance the menuet bleu. The professor 
refused to change its name, and told his pupil she 
would only be laughed at by her parents' courtiers if 
she persisted in misnaming the minuet, upon hearing 
which Adelaide tossed her head, stamped with her 
foot, refused even to go through the first steps, and 

20 



MADAME ADl&LAlDE 

screamed " Blue, blue, blue " at the top of her shrill 
voice. However, the dancing-master kept up a bass 
accompaniment of " Pink, pink, pink," until the 
Mother Superior came to inquire what all the noise 
was about, and then very unwisely decided that 
Mademoiselle was to have her own way ; whereupon 
that young lady, now all smiles and sweetness, daintily 
seized the edge of her silken skirt, pointed her toes, 
and went through her steps like an angel/ Madame 
Adelaide had considerable power over her father as 
his favourite daughter, and was in the habit of saying 
" We will do this," ox '' We will do that." 

Mesdames were still scarcely more than children 
when they left their convent and returned to the splendid 
but unhomelike palace of Versailles. Here they found 
a friend, however, in the person of the Dauphin, and, 
at his advice, they continued the education begun in 
their convent ; indeed, they worked with such a will 
that they were soon able to read and write their 
native language quite correctly and had learnt some- 
thing about French history. 

Madame Adelaide had promised to be pretty in 
her early youth, but, as her lectrice tells us, " never did 
any woman lose her good looks earlier than she lost 
hers." This loss probably embittered her temper, for 
Madame Adelaide, who was the wittiest of the king's 
daughters, became with age harsh in manners and 
voice. On one occasion Madame Adelaide's chaplain 
having said the Dominus Vobiscum in what she con- 
sidered an arrogant manner, his royal mistress had 
him into her boudoir and told him to '* recollect that 

^ M. de Barthelemy says the heroine of this incident was " Madame 
Victoire, as Madame Adelaide was not at Fontevrault at that time." 

21 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

he was not a bishop, and to be careful not to try to 
imitate the ways of bishops." 

Madame Adelaide fancied herself musical, and 
insisted on learning such impossible and unfeminine 
instruments as the horn and the Jew's harp, after 
which she set herself to learn English, Italian, — which 
language was to prove so useful during the years of 
exile, — mathematics, watchmaking, etc. She had a 
great opinion of her own importance : nothing 
angered her more than to be called Royal Highness 
by the ambassadors at her father's Court ; she wished 
to be Madajne. At six years of age she had gravely 
informed her parents that she did not approve of her 
sister Elisabeth's marriage. Although she had the 
Bourbon fault of greediness, she never touched wine, 
and any guest sitting by her side at dinner was 
expected to turn away from her when drinking out of 
his or her own glass. 

Now Madame Adelaide had a great friend, Mme 
de Narbonne, whose husband Lady Blennerhassett 
and other authors say acted as chamberlain and 
lover to his royal mistress. In order to avoid a 
scandal, Mme de Narbonne consented to pass the 
child born of this liaison off as her own. The 
boy, " whose noble physiognomy," says Lamartine, 
"reminded people of Louis xv in his youth," was 
much petted by the royal family and especially by 
Mesdames. Madame Adelaide had another friend, 
the marquise de Durfort, made duchesse de Civrac 
by the will of her royal mistress. These two ladies, 
Mmes de Narbonne and de Durfort were accused, 
rightly or wrongly, of doing everything they could to 
make mischief between the royal sisters. Count 

22 



MADAME VICTOIRE 

Louis, the son of Mme de Narbonne, became rather 
a spendthrift as he grew up : what was easier for him 
than to worry his mother for money ? These cease- 
less demands tried Mme de Narbonne's temper, and 
Mme de Boigne hints that Madame Adelaide's friend 
was not above working off her fits of anger on her 
royal mistress until Madame Adelaide, weary of being 
snapped at, consented to open her purse for the 
prodigal's benefit. 

Madame Victoire was handsome and more gracious 
in her manner than Adelaide, and therefore more 
beloved by her household. She also had the Bourbon 
appetite, of which she vainly endeavoured to cure 
herself. Lent to her was something more than a 
period of fasting and abstinence : it was a time of 
torture. The hour of midnight on Easter Eve was 
looked upon by her as the hour of liberation, and was 
duly celebrated by a copious meal of chicken, fish, 
and other sustaining food. She suffered mental 
anguish as to whether such and such a dish were 
Lenten fare or not. There was a certain water-fowl 
to which she was particularly partial ; a bishop 
happening to be dining with Madame Victoire when 
this bird was served, he was asked whether his royal 
hostess might partake of it without imperilling her 
soul. The reverend gentleman informed the princess 
that it was the custom, when in doubt, to carve the 
fowl on an ice-cold silver dish ; if the gravy became 
congealed within a quarter of an hour after this 
operation, it showed that the animal was red meat and 
therefore unfit to be eaten in Lent ; if, on the contrary, 
the gravy remained liquid, the bird could be eaten 
without any qualms of conscience. The experiment 

23 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

was tried forthwith : the gravy remained liquid, to 
Madame Victoire's great delight. 

Nobody who has seen Nattier's charming portrait 
of Madame Sophie at Versailles would think that she 
was the Ugly Duckling of the family ; but such was 
the case, and poor Sophie knew it. Even her lectrice 
calls her satwage, and adds that she never saw a more 
timid, nervous creature, Casimir Stryienski says : 
" She was insignificant from her birth, and remained 
so until her last day." Perhaps the education 
received at Fontevrault had something to do with her 
eccentric manners. She was never known to walk 
slowly, but always seemed as if she were running away 
from somebody or something. Whenever any of the 
palace attendants heard her hurried step, they drew 
on one side until she had passed them blinking out 
of the corners of her eyes like a frightened hare. A 
whole year would elapse without her voice being heard 
in her father's presence, and yet her lectrice says that 
to certain ladies she could be very civil and even join 
in witty repartee. She was fond of study, but pre- 
ferred to read herself rather than be read to. This 
timid princess, however, became another person on 
the approach of a thunder-storm ; her brusque 
manners disappeared completely, and she was sud- 
denly metamorphosed into the most charming, affable 
creature possible. In such moments she seemed to 
feel the need of human companionship, and preferred 
to talk with the humblest servitor in her father's 
household rather than face the dreaded storm alone 
in her own boudoir. With the first rumble of distant 
thunder she became talkative, seized the hands of the 
person nearest her, and displayed the greatest interest 

24 



THE UGLY DUCKLING 

in that person's family affairs. The storm over, the 
Ugly Duckling released her victim and shuffled off to 
her own apartments without so much as saying good- 
bye to the good Samaritan. 

Madame Louise was the favourite of her sisters 
and her lectrice. Owing to a fall during her babyhood, 
this princess had one shoulder higher than the other, 
besides which she had a slight limp. These physical 
defects caused her to lead a retired life like her sister 
Sophie, only in her case it was not timidity but dislike 
for the society at her father's Court which was the 
reason. She was kind to the little Henriette. She 
had made a rule that she must be read to for at least 
five hours every day, but she frequently took pity on 
the child when her voice became husky, and would 
even place a glass of eau sucree prepared by her own 
hands on the table by her side. 



25 



CHAPTER II 

Louis XV surprises his daughters' lectrice in the act of making 
"cheeses" — Madame Louise takes the veil — Arrival in France of 
Marie Antoinette — Henriette loses her heart — Mesdames try to find 
a husband for their lectrice — The origin of the Campan family — 
Marie Antoinette makes Henriette Campan her waiting-woman — 
Mesdames' hatred for Marie Antoinette — Mesdames go to Bellevue, 
and Henriette leaves their service — The Court is jealous of Mme 
Campan's influence. 

Mesdames' tedious existence at Versailles was some- 
times varied by visits to Compiegne. During one of 
these visits, the king one day came unexpectedly into 
Madame Victoire's boudoir while Henriette was 
reading to her mistress ; the lectrice immediately 
arose and retired into an adjoining room. Here the 
child, weary of reading dry tomes, and mayhap 
remembering the merry games with her little sisters 
and brother in the old home, began to make what 
nursery-maids call "cheeses": that is to say, after 
having twirled swiftly round and round on one foot 
with arms extended, the little lectrice sank down on 
the floor with her silken skirts inflated round her like 
a balloon. So absorbed did she grow in this fascinat- 
ing operation that she quite lost count of time. Just 
as she had accomplished her most successful " cheese," 
while she was still squatting on the floor gazing in 
ecstasy at the perfect circle made by her voluminous 
skirts, the door of Madame Victoire's boudoir was 

26 



A CHEESE MAKING LECTRICE 

thrown open and she and the king appeared. The 
little lectrice, overcome with horror at being caught 
playing like a child in its nursery, endeavoured to 
rise from the ground and assume a position more in 
keeping with her post ; but her head was probably 
somewhat giddy from this unusual exercise, for, in- 
stead of rising, she tumbled over her own feet and 
again fell to the ground, making the most beautiful 
"cheese" of all as she did so. Her sudden collapse 
caused the king to burst into a fit of loud laughter. 
" Daughter," said he to Madame Victoire, " I advise 
you to send your cheese-making lectrice back to her 
convent." 

The life led by Henriette at the Court of Versailles 
was calculated to make her old before her time. It 
had had a blighting effect upon the king's daughters ; 
theirs was a strange existence, and each princess 
accepted her fate according to her temperament. 
Madame Adelaide found consolation in her male and 
female friends ; Madame Victoire confessed that life 
was worth living as long as she could enjoy a good 
meal ; Madame Sophie's pride enabled her to lock up 
in her own breast all her regrets for what Fate had 
withheld from her, while Madame Louise sought 
peace of mind on her prie-Dieu. This religious 
tendency developed as she grew older, and eventually 
led to her entering a convent. 

Henriette says in her memoirs : " One evening, 
while I was reading aloud to Madame Louise, a 
steward came in to tell her that M. Bertin, one of the 
king's Ministers, asked to speak with her. She left 
the room in a great hurry, returned, picked up her 
embroidery and her silks, made me take up my book 

27 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

again, and when I had finished and was leaving the 
room, commanded me to come to her study at eleven 
o'clock on the morrow. On doing so, I was in- 
formed that the princess had left the palace at seven 
o'clock that very morning, and had gone to the 
Carmelite Convent at Saint-Denis, where she wished 
to take the veil. I went to Madame Victoire's 
apartments. Here I learnt that the king alone had 
been told of Madame Louise's plan, that he had faith- 
fully kept it secret, and that, after having for long 
opposed her wishes, he had sent her his permission 
on the previous evening ; that she had gone all alone 
to the convent, where she was expected ; that a few 
minutes after her arrival she had reappeared at the 
grating, in order to show the princesse de Guistel and 
her equerry who had accompanied her, the king's 
permission for her to enter the convent." 

Madame Adelaide, on learning of her sister's 
sudden departure, coolly asked, " With whom has she 
gone ? " and then fell into a violent passion and 
scolded her father for having kept the matter secret 
from her, his favourite daughter. 

Madame Victoire shed many a tear over the loss 
of the one person for whom she had any real affection 
besides herself Her little lectrice was so afraid that 
her mistress would be tempted to follow her sister's 
example that she flung herself at the princess's feet 
and begged her with tears in her eyes not to go 
away and leave her. Whereupon, Madame Victoire 
made her rise, kissed her, and with a smile, pointing 
to the comfortable arm-chair in which she was sitting, 
said : — 

" Don't be afraid, my child ; I shall never have 

28 



MADAME LOUISE TAKES THE VEIL 

Louise's courage. I am too fond of being comfort- 
able. This arm-chair will be the undoing of me." 

After a little time Henriette asked to be allowed 
to go to visit her late mistress. To her surprise, 
she found the princess, although occupied by the very 
unfamiliar task of washing her clothes, looking much 
stronger and happier than she had ever looked at 
Versailles. Henriette was deeply touched when 
Madame Louise begged her to forgive her for having 
made her read so much aloud ; she then confessed to 
her former lectrice that she had long ago determined 
to become a nun, and, knowing that when once she 
had taken the veil she would not be allowed to read 
anything but religious works, she had wanted to hear 
her favourite authors once more before she retired 
from the world. 

But although she no longer lived in a palace, 
Madame Louise received many visitors, bishops^ 
archbishops, priests, who came to beg her to obtain 
favours for them from her father. It is probable that 
Madame Louise hoped to persuade her parent to 
"make a good death," as the phrase goes, and that 
she might be instrumental in getting him into the 
heaven about which he never troubled himself to think. 

Henriette's life at Versailles was, if possible, even 
duller after Madame Louise's departure than it had 
been before that event, and we can be sure that she 
for one was glad to learn in 1770 that a young 
princess, Marie Antoinette, was coming to enliven 
the Court. However, the aunts of that princess's 
future husband were less pleased. Madame Adelaide, 
for instance, loudly expressed her disapproval of her 
nephew's marriage to an archduchess, and swore that 

29 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

if she had had any voice in the matter she should not 
have chosen an Austrian. There was a good deal of 
jealousy mingled with Madame Adelaide's dislike of 
the Dauphine ; she could not forget that she herself 
had once been young, pretty, full of life and spirit — 
now she was elderly, ugly, harsh in voice and manner ; 
the young bride's high spirits grated on her nerves, 
Mesdames, during those long years of seclusion, had 
learnt to hide their feelings, and so they managed to 
receive the Dauphine with a certain show of cordiality. 
They gave her some magnificent wedding-presents, 
and Madame Adelaide even went the length of pre- 
senting her with the key leading to her private apart- 
ments, begging her to pay her little visits whenever 
she felt inclined to slip away from stiff Court etiquette. 
This invitation the Dauphine readily accepted. How- 
ever, the visits gave but little pleasure to either party. 
Madame Victoire really wished to be of use to the 
young, inexperienced princess, and to help her by 
her good advice to avoid those rocks and pitfalls 
which eventually led to the queen's ruin. 

But there was one person who was determined 
that Mesdames friendship should not prosper, and 
that was the Abbe de Vermond. This man, the son 
of a country physician and the brother of Marie 
Antoinette's future accoucheur, a doctor of theology 
at the Sorbonne and the librarian of the College 
Mazarin, had been chosen, thanks to his influence 
with Lom^nie de Brienne, to go to Vienna there to 
perfect the Dauphin's fiancee in the language of her 
future country. Although the Abb6 failed to com- 
plete her education — for on her arrival the arch- 
duchess was unable to speak or write French correctly 

30 



THE AUTRICHIENNE ARRIVES 

— he managed to obtain the Dauphine's entire confi- 
dence and to exercise considerable influence over her. 

The Abbe prided himself upon being eccentric, 
would receive Ministers and even bishops while in his 
bath — but this Marie Antoinette and Marat also did 
— and generally treated his superiors as if they were 
his subordinates. During his daily visits to the 
Dauphine he excited her to ridicule the advice of 
that excellent creature, Mme de Noailles, whom she 
baptized Madame P Etiquette. 

The young bride's troubles began almost as soon 
as she had set foot in France. During one of the 
fetes given in her honour, Louis xv invited the bride 
and bridegroom, all the members of the royal family, 
and the ladies of his Court to a grand supper. To 
the surprise and disgust of the daughter of Maria 
Theresa, she found that Mme du Barry had been 
included among the favoured guests. However, she 
managed to conceal her feelings until the end of the 
evening. No sooner had she retired than the king 
began to sing her praises and to congratulate himself 
upon having chosen such a charming bride for his 
grandson. But this praise gave great offence to 
Mme du Barry, who was considerably older than the 
fair bride, and so she gave vent to her spite by 
criticizing the Dauphine's face, walk, and manners. 

Madame Adelaide was soon enabled to find an 
excuse for disliking the Autrichiciine when, soon 
after the latter's arrival, the card-tables which since 
Marie Leczinska's death had been kept in her 
daughter's apartments were removed to those of the 
Dauphine. In order to show that she considered 
herself slighted, Madame Adelaide established a rival 

31 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

set of card-tables in her now empty rooms, and 
abstained from any intercourse with her niece except 
when obHged to visit her or receive her visits. 

Reports of the archduchess's skill in composing 
Latin speeches had preceded her arrival in France. 
However, Mesdames lectjdce did not take long to 
discover that the bride was quite unfamiliar with that 
language, and she subsequently learnt that whenever 
the young archduchess had had to deliver Latin 
addresses at her mother's Court, somebody had 
written them for her so that she could read them as 
a parrot talks without knowing what it is saying. 
Henriette also found out that, though the Dauphine 
could say a few sentences in Italian, she knew practi- 
cally nothing about history, literature, or the fine arts. 
During the Dauphine's none too frequent visits to 
her husband's aunts, she noticed Mile Henriette, 
heard her read aloud, and sometimes asked her to 
accompany her on the piano or the harp. Indeed, she 
was so struck by Henriette's charm of manner and 
musical gifts that she begged the king to let her 
share Mesdames' lectrice. This favour he granted 
willingly. 

Henriette Genest had now reached the age of 
eighteen. Of course she had had several proposals, 
for she was pretty and charming — and she had lost 
her heart. In a letter written to her beloved pupil 
Hortense de Beauharnais, when the snow of many 
winters had whitened her hair, she says (and we can 
almost see the tears fall on the page) : " Do not 
laugh at my old love-affairs : I loved a man whom I 
had known for six years, who was witty, handsome, 
rich, and a soldier ; but when I was informed that the 

32 




Copyriglit by\ 



Marie Antoinette. 

From an eighteenth-century painting, French School. 



{Bratm &" Co. 



O-' 



"I, TOO, HAVE BEEN IN ARCADY" 

difference of religion, which unfortunately had not 
been suspected until then, would cause me to lose my 
place as lectrice at Court, that people would gossip 
about me, that I should be blamed, that I should 
bring disfavour upon the person who had formed an 
attachment for me, I made up my mind. He was so 
determined to marry me or nobody, that he would 
not remain in Europe after this rupture, and requested 
permission to serve in India in order to leave France. 
I should be guilty of telling a falsehood if I were to 
say that this rupture caused me no pain. I spent 
more than one sleepless night hesitating between 
my affection and my duty. You will allow that the 
fact that my father had originally given his consent 
was calculated to strengthen my attachment ; but the 
subsequent withdrawal of that consent caused by his 
respect for propriety appealed to my reason, and I 
felt that I ought to submit to his will." 

Did the old hand tremble as it wrote those 
words ? Did the memory of a magic hour long past 
cause a tear to fall on this confession ? . . . A little 
farther on in the same letter she says : "I afterwards 
made a very unhappy marriage. And yet I might 
have been happy with M. Campan if he had not been 
fickle, extravagant, and entirely unfitted for married 
life ; had my parents made a better choice, they 
might have been instrumental in procuring me happi- 
ness. I assure you that during those twenty years of 
marriage, love of duty always made me desire to live 
in peace with my husband and be happy with him. ..." 

It is evident that the man whom Henriette 
married was not a success ; she herself scarcely 
mentions him in her memoirs, and when she does so, 
c 33 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

it is in reference to his debts. Mesdames were re- 
sponsible for the disaster; they, probably noticing 
that their little lectrice had seemed less light-hearted 
since the departure of a certain friend, set about 
looking for a husband for her. The king having 
promised to allow her 5000 livres a year, she was 
soon provided. Henriette met her future husband 
at Court, where his father, besides being the Dauphine's 
secretary and librarian, was well known to the king, 
whom he had often accompanied to those bah ^ bouts 
de chandelle to which the Bien-Aime was so partial 
during several winters. These balls were given by 
what Mme Campan calls **the last rung of society." 
The king was in the habit of inquiring in Carnival- 
time whether any of the hairdressers, milliners, and 
small shopkeepers who swarmed at Versailles were 
likely to be giving entertainments when, masked and 
accompanied by four or five members of his house- 
hold also masked, he would appear uninvited at his 
humble subjects' balls. Of course everybody guessed 
the identity of the stout man who used as vulgar 
expressions as the poorest of the guests at these 
entertainments lighted by spluttering candle-ends — 
hence their name. 

The Campans, whose real name was Bertholet, 
originally came from the valley of Campan, near 
Tarbes, in the province of Beam. Pierre Bertholet, 
being of an enterprising disposition, found the peace- 
ful native valley too narrow for his ambitions ; so 
after completing his studies at Toulouse, he entered 
the army and for twenty years fought for the lilies of 
France, winning many wounds and the affection and 
esteem of his superior officers. He had one especi- 

34 



HENRIETTE'S HUSBAND 

ally influential friend in the person of M. Paris 
Duverney, who confided to him divers small but 
lucrative missions, and, at the time of Louis xv's 
marriage to Marie Leczinska, obtained for M. 
Campan, as his protege now called himself, the post 
of page of the back stairs to the young queen. This 
post, which he shared with three other gentlemen, 
was worth about 9000 livres a year besides many 
perquisites, and was very much to M. Campan's taste. 
The functions of the four pages who took it in turn 
to wait upon the queen for a fortnight at a time, were 
various : they had to wait at table when their mistress 
dined in private, and to carry messages to her 
children and ladies, and they had always to be on the 
spot to hand her to her coach when she went out 
driving. 

Soon after obtaining this post, M. Campan 
married Mile Hardivilliers, the daughter of a man 
of good family who had once been wealthy but had 
squandered all his fortune. The young couple had 
two children, one son and one daughter ; the latter 
died in infancy, while the former, after receiving a 
splendid education in Paris and devoting himself for 
some time to literature, was given a post in the com- 
missariat. He in turn married and had one son, 
Henriette's future husband. 

The Dauphine soon began to treat her secretary 
and librarian with such confidence that the Abb^ de 
Vermond, one of the future queen's many bad angels, 
became jealous of the Frenchman, which jealousy the 
Dauphine explained to her secretary in the following 
compliment : — 

" The Abb6, my dear Campan, does not love you ; 

35 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

he did not think that I should find on my arrival in 
France a man who would suit me as perfectly as 
you do." 

As we have already seen, the young Dauphine's 
education, like that of her husband's aunts, left much 
to be desired ; she found music, perhaps, less irksome 
than any other study, and soon after her marriage she 
asked M. Campan to allow his son, who sang very 
well, to give her singing-lessons in secret, saying as 
her reason : " The Dauphine must be careful of the 
archduchess's reputation." So hard did she work that, 
at the end of three months, she could read music at 
sight and sang so well that she astonished the professor 
who had first been called in to instruct her. 

Marie Antoinette cared little or nothing about 
literature or painting ; so bad a judge was she that 
she allowed the most incompetent artists to paint her 
portrait — which accounts, perhaps, for the hideous 
portraits of her " discovered " from time to time — 
and her one idea when she went to the Louvre seemed 
to be to get away as soon as possible, for she never took 
the trouble to examine any single picture in detail. 

Although Mesdames were frequently at variance 
with their nephew's wife, they seem to have agreed 
that the son of the Dauphine's secretary and librarian 
would make a suitable husband for their little lectrice ; 
and so Henriette Genest was given in marriage to the 
amateur singing-master, when the Dauphine appointed 
the bride to be her waiting- woman, at the same time 
permitting her to retain her post as lectrice to 
Mesdames. 

Mme Campan soon found that her advancement 
had won her an enemy in the person of the Abbd de 

36 



AMATEUR THEATRICALS 

Vermond ; as lecteur to the Dauphine, he objected 
to the young woman reading aloud to his mistress. 
However, the latter's passion for being read to gave 
her the courage to insist that her waiting- woman should 
read to her whenever she wished, and so the Abbe 
had to give in. The Dauphine learnt to prize M. 
Campan's services during those first years of married 
life, for she found him and his son invaluable in help- 
ing her to arrange the amateur theatricals with which 
she endeavoured to kill time. Now the Dauphine 
stood in considerable awe of her husband's grandfather, 
and did not wish him to know how she and the comtes 
d'Artois and de Provence amused themselves. How- 
ever, these entertainments came to an untimely end 
owing to the following adventure. One day the 
Dauphine told M. Campan to go to her boudoir and 
fetch something which she had forgotten ; M. Campan, 
dressed as a crisping with his face highly rouged, was 
descending the secret staircase leading to the boudoir 
when he thought he heard somebody following him, 
so he quickly slipped behind a door — not so quickly 
but that somebody heard him and saw him disappear 
into a dark corner. Being of an inquisitive nature 
and probably suspecting an intrigue — they were of 
such frequent occurrence ! — the amateur detective 
pushed the door open. However, he was unprepared 
for the grotesque sight which met his gaze, and he fell 
back half fainting and screaming with all his might. 
M. Campan picked him up and, begging him to stop 
yelling if he did not wish to bring trouble upon himself 
and others, recommended him to say nothing about 
his fright. On hearing of the incident, the Dauphine, 
^ Crispin : a comic part played by a footman in one of Moliere's plays. 

37 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

fearing lest the harmless adventure should be turned 
into a crime, ceased to indulge her passion for amateur 
theatricals. 

Mme Campan's position was somewhat painful in 
that she more frequently heard her young mistress 
blamed than praised. The Dauphine had at first tried 
to live in peace with her husband's aunts, but she soon 
found that she was hated by nearly all her new rela- 
tions : Mesdames, and the comtesses de Provence and 
d'Artois (the latter perhaps had good cause to do so) 
did not spare her. The Abbe Baudeau, writing in 
1774, when she was enjoying her new title of queen, 
said : " They [Mesdames) let fly red-hot bullets at the 
queen. It is all the fault of the old aunts, who are ever 
on the war-path ; they are the instigators of the 
detestable satires directed against her person. ..." 

When their nephew protested against their conduct, 
they threatened to retire to Fontevrault — but it was 
only an idle threat. 

Maria Theresa was well aware of Mesdames' 
animosity towards her daughter, and in a letter to 
Mercy-Argenteau, the Austrian Ambassador at the 
Court of Louis xvi and Marie Antoinette, to whom he 
was sincerely attached, begged him to warn her 
daughter against the advice of Mesdames, " who had 
neither won the affection nor the respect of the French 
nation." 

In consequence of Mesdames' very inimical be- 
haviour towards his young wife, Louis xvi, notwith- 
standing the fact that Madame Adelaide at one time 
had exercised considerable influence over him, hinted 
in 1775 that his aunts had better retire to Bellevue, 
which estate they accordingly purchased at the cost 

38 



MESDAMES RETIRE TO BELLEVUE 

of 724,337 livres, with 50,000 livres compensation to 
M. de Champcenetz, the owner, for being turned out 
of his house. M. le comte de Fleury in his Drames 
de fkistoire says that more bishops than politicians 
were seen at Bellevue ; the truth was that Mesdames 
kept a very good table and possessed a cook who 
excelled in the art of making insipid Lenten fare taste 
as delicious as any other ; indeed, as the same author 
expresses it : "He was renowned even in Paris for 
turning fish into meat." 

When Mesdames retired to Bellevue, M. Campan 
pere was given the post of master of the wardrobe to 
those ladies ; but his daughter-in-law, as waiting- 
woman to the queen, was obliged to relinquish the 
post of lectrice ; she must have regretted her first 
mistresses, who, although often harsh and disagreeable 
to others, had never been otherwise than kind and 
indulgent to her. 

Mme Campan's fellow waiting- women were Mme 
de Misery and Mme la comtesse de Noailles ; the 
former was the daughter of the comte de Chamant 
and was related to the de Montmorency family through 
her mother. Like Mme de Noailles she was a slave 
to etiquette, and unfortunately she had no taste in the 
matter of dress and fashion. When her term of 
service came, Marie Antoinette used laughingly to 
say to her ladies : " Now you must look out ; here's the 
empress-queen coming ! " Mme Campan relates an 
amusing scene which Mme de Noailles, Madam'e 
r^tiquette, did not at all enjoy. She says : " One day 
I unintentionally put this poor lady to a terrible amount 
of suffering. The queen was receiving somebody or 
the other — some new presentation, I think. The 

39 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

maids of honour and the ladies of the palace were 
standing behind her ; I was close to her bed with the 
two other waiting-women then on duty. Everything 
was going quite smoothly (at least I thought so) when 
I suddenly noticed that Mme de Noailles was staring 
very hard at me ; she nodded her head and then 
worked her eyebrows up and down at a furious rate, 
all the while making signs with her hands. This 
extraordinary pantomime made me suspect that some- 
thing was wrong ; the countess became still more 
agitated when I began to look all round me in order 
to find out what was the matter. The queen, noticing 
my bewilderment, looked at me and smiled ; I then 
managed to get near her Majesty, who whispered to 
me : ' Unfasten your lappets or the countess will 
expire ! ' All this fuss was because I had forgotten 
to remove the two pins which secured my lappets, 
whereas the ladies that day had been commanded to 
appear with their lappets unfastened." 

Mme Campan, according to Leonard, the queen's 
hairdresser, must have been a very taking little person 
at that time ; he speaks of her pretty face, sparkling 
wit, and wonderful conversational gifts which study 
had perfected ; he gives us to understand, however, 
that the pretty waiting- woman encouraged her young 
mistress to be extravagant, for he says : — 

" She was always careful to anticipate the queen's 
desires and never troubled herself to ask the price 
of anything ; thanks to her felicitous and numerous 
innovations (which I and Mile Bertin^ seconded to 

^ Rosa Bertin was immensely proud of the fact that the queen 
deigned to consult her opinion, and her pride was still more increased 
by the favour of the Empress Josephine, who made her ministre des modes. 

40 



THE DUCHESSE DE POLIGNAC 

the best of our ability) her Majesty's extravagance 
soon knew no bounds. ..." 

We find Mme Campan during the Empire accused, 
rightly or wrongly, of allowing her pupils to be 
extravagant in the matter of dress. 

Notwithstanding Marie Antoinette's love of pretty 
things, she, like her brother Joseph ii, was peculiarly 
averse to giving presents to ' er household ; other 
persons, however — the duche ie de Polignac for 
instance, the queen's favourite — were more favoured. 
Mme Campan says of this woman : — 

*' She was grace personified ; she did not care for 
jewellery. I do not think I ever saw her wear her 
diamonds, not even when she was at the height of 
her good fortune." 

Mme Campan was less lenient to the queen's 
friend when she wrote many years later to the duchesse 
de Saint- Leu : — 

"The queen chose as her favourite the amiable, 
naive duchesse de Polignac, who lived quite openly 
with M. de Vaudreuil ; the comtesse Diane, her sister, 
was known to have several lovers — so little did people 
care for morality ! The public noticed that, although 
the king and queen's married life was absolutely blame- 
less, they were not overburdened with scruples, and so 
advantage was taken of that fact." 

The Abbe de Vermond looked upon Marie 
Antoinette's friendship for the duchesse de Polignac 
with great disfavour ; jealousy, or perhaps a desire to 
put an end to the queen's infatuation, prompted him 

After Josephine's death, a lady went to Mile Berlin's establishment and 
asked to be shown some mourning suitable for the occasion, whereupon 
Mile Bertin called out to one of her assistants : " Show Madame some 
examples of my last work with her Majesty." 

41 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

to leave Versailles ; whereupon Marie Antoinette, who, 
at that time, considered that she still had need of his 
services, sent the comte de Mercy-Argenteau to 
persuade him to return. But before consenting to do 
so, the astute ecclesiastic submitted to the queen a 
long list of conditions which she must fulfil if she 
wished to see his face again ; after reproaching his 
royal mistress for not having written to him lately, for 
her foolish intimacy with the duchesse de Polignac 
and for allowing that woman's family to exercise bad 
influence over her ; after complaining that she had 
begun to scorn his advice, he swore that he himself 
was devoid of all personal ambition, that he only 
wanted to regain her confidence, impressed upon her 
that in future she must write to him with her own 
hand, and then ended with a demand that she would 
increase his salary to 20,000 francs ; to this last con- 
dition, the most important of all, the queen must 
promise to consent or he would never again set foot 
in the palace of Versailles. He got his own way, and 
was back in his old place before another week had 
elapsed. 

Mme Campan's memoirs do not contain many 
references to the queen's extravagance, which was 
to be the last straw on the back of the long-suffering 
nation. She mentions, however, a fete given by the 
queen at the Trianons in order to show what a 
different view people take of the same event according 
to their political opinions. 

" The queen," says she, " twice caused her little 
garden at Trianon to be illuminated ; a few hundred 
miserable bundles of faggots were burnt in the ditches 
in order to light up the foliage of the different trees, 

42 



MME CAMPAN'S DUTIES 

but the Court alone was admitted to these fetes ; 
according to the strange rumours which were spread 
abroad, it would seem as if every forest in the land 
had been burnt down and the entire country devas- 
tated. Why ? because the public was and could not 
be admitted to these entertainments. . . . Never were 
so many fireworks let off or so much money spent on 
illuminations as during the Revolution ; those fetes 
were paid for with the nation's money. Did anybody 
complain? No, because the public shared in them." 

It was M. Campan's duty to organize the fetes at 
the Trianons, and right regally does he seem to 
have fulfilled that duty. 

Marie Antoinette's extravagance displayed itself 
more in a passion for jewellery and rich furniture than 
in fine clothes. She usually had twelve new Court- 
dresses made at the beginning of the winter, twelve 
simpler costumes, and twelve dresses with panniers 
which she wore in the evening when playing cards or 
supping in her private apartments. The same number 
of dresses was ordered for summer wear. At the end 
of each season her wardrobe was overhauled and two 
or three costumes given away. As waiting- woman to 
Marie Antoinette, it was Mme Campan's duty to see 
that her mistress's wardrobe was kept in order. 

Marie Antoinette's extravagance pales before 
Josephine's mania for buying new clothes ; for the 
latter, while still only the wife of the First Consul, 
owed her tradespeople the sum of 1,200,000 francs. 
Did she not possess six hundred costumes at one 
time ? and were not thirty new bonnets ordered every 
month ? She practised no economy where dress was 
concerned, whereas Mme Campan tells us that her 

43 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

mistress made her spring costumes serve again for 
the autumn. 

M. Campan pere had given his daughter-in-law 
some very excellent advice soon after she entered the 
young Dauphine's service ; after recommending her 
to avoid trying to obtain her mistress's confidence, a 
dangerous trust, he said : — 

" Serve her with zeal and intelligence, and always 
be quick to obey." 

Mme Campan soon discovered that she possessed 
considerable influence over her young mistress ; the 
queen treated her as her equal — the CEil de Bcsuf^, 
she says, knew it and hated her accordingly. What 
was more natural than that Mme Campan should 
endeavour to turn the queen's thoughts to something 
less frivolous than amateur theatricals, dances, and 
masquerades ? She would plead for some unfortunate 
family, or beg for advancement for some deserving 
workman. Good M. Campan /^r^ tried in the follow- 
ing words to persuade the queen to cease reading 
those insipid and ofttimes harmful novels which were 
then the fashion in France, a fashion which like a 
good many others equally foolish had come from 
across the water : — 

"What can your Majesty possibly learn from 
those wretched books ? " said he. "Milord Lindsay's 
passion for the orphan Anna, their meeting at a 
wayside inn, the tribulations of the young miss, the 
picture of middle-class society, the account of a masked 
ball, an adventure with a rope-ladder, a conflagration, 

^ CEil de Bceuf: an anteroom in the palace of Versailles, so called 
from its round window ; it was a favourite meeting-place for courtiers 
and place-seekers. 

44 



THE QUEEN'S FRIVOLOUS TASTES 

an elopement, a shipwreck, persecuted lovers? . . . 
Read rather, Madame, of the prosperity, of the good 
deeds, of the misfortunes and of the faults of sovereigns ; 
make these a daily study. . . . History, of which men 
(and especially women) usually only talk in order to 
show off their learning, ought to be the sovereign's 
Bible ; it should be read every day ; every page, as a 
truth born of experience, should be engraved on the 
mind as a useful and most valuable possession." 

To this long rigmarole the queen listened atten- 
tively and with docility ; she then replied : — 

"You are quite right, Monsieur, let us read history 
at once. Let us begin with Roman history ; another 
day we will read Anacharsis or some French history." 

Alas for good resolutions ! on the morrow, M. 
Campan invariably found, on presenting himself before 
the queen, that she had changed her mind and was 
engrossed in some trashy novel in five or six volumes 
lately translated into French for her especial edifica- 
tion ; she would say in an off-hand manner : — 

" Do not come to-morrow, for I am reading a book 
which I want to enjoy all by myself." 

Years afterwards Mme Campan, probably thinking 
of Marie Antoinette, wrote to Hortense de Beau- 
harnais : — 

" I have good reason to hate novels ; they nearly 
ruined a woman who, with her natural good sense and 
her elevated mind, might have saved France and left 
the greatest name to posterity. I begged her on my 
knees, with tears in my eyes, to give up this fatal 
habit ; but she could not break herself of it." 



45 



CHAPTER III 

The duties of the queen's waiting-woman — A day at Versailles — Marie 
Antoinette adopts a little peasant-boy — Birth of the queen's eldest 
child — Mesmer pays a visit to Paris — M. Campan tries one of the 
famous physician's cures — Birth of the first Dauphin — Indiscreet 
well-wishers — The young mother receives a deputation from the 
ladies of the Paris markets — The comtes d'Haga and du Nord pay 
a visit to Versailles — Madame Royale goes to see her great-aunt 
Louise. 

Mme Campan's place as waiting-woman to the queen 
was no sinecure ; she had to supervise the other 
waiting-women, to receive her royal mistress's orders, 
to superintend her toilet, order her carriages, and 
prepare for the few, short journeys taken by the 
Court. Not only did the queen's chief waiting- 
woman have charge of her Majesty's jewels and 
privy-purse, but she had to pay the numerous suite 
and to reply to the still more numerous troop of 
beggars of all ages and all classes and to content 
everybody. She had to take the place of any absent 
lady-in-waiting, and as such she had to usher the 
queen's visitors into her Majesty's presence. 

It is amusing to learn from her memoirs that 
Mme Campan's salary of 12,000 francs a year was 
considerably augmented by the sale of the candles 
used to light Marie Antoinette's private apartments, 
a nice little perquisite representing the sum of 38,000 
francs a year, which candles she, as chief waiting- 

46 



THE DUTIES OF A WAITING-WOMAN 

woman, had the right to take away every evening 
whether they had been lighted or not. But it was 
not until Mme Campan had been some years in the 
queen's service that she and her sister, Adelaide 
Augui^, also waiting-woman to Marie Antoinette, 
were allowed to dispose of their mistress's discarded 
clothing to their friends — another and a still more 
valuable perquisite. Adelaide Auguie was almost as 
great a favourite with Marie Antoinette as her sister ; 
the queen had given her 7000 francs and some valu- 
able jewels at the time of her marriage to M. Augui6, 
a commissary-general of subsistence in the army, with 
a promise to the bridegroom of advancement ; this 
promise was soon after fulfilled, for M. Augui^ was 
given the receiver-generalship of the duchy of Bar 
and Lorraine, a post worth nearly 100,000 francs a 
year. 

Mme Campan describes her duties in the following 
words : — 

" The queen was usually called at eight o'clock in 
the morning and breakfasted at nine either in bed or 
sitting on a sofa with a little table by her side. Her 
Majesty frequently received visitors at this time ; her 
doctor, her chief surgeon, her reader, her secretary, 
the king's four principal footmen and his physicians 
and surgeons, had the right to be admitted to her 
presence ; there were often ten or twelve persons 
present. 

"It was the duty of the lady-in-waiting to arrange 
the queen's breakfast on her bed or by her sofa ; the 
princesse de Lamballe^ very frequently fulfilled this 

* The friend of Marie Antoinette and one of the victims of the 
September massacres. 

47 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

duty when she happened to be present. The queen's 
abstemiousness was remarkable ; she either had coffee 
or chocolate for breakfast ; she ate nothing but white 
meat at dinner, only drank water and supped off a 
plate of soup, a chicken wing, and a glass of water in 
which she used to dip little biscuits. . . . The queen 
having got out of bed, the mistress of the wardrobe 
was admitted that she might take away the pillows 
and prepare the bed for the footmen to make. She 
then drew the curtains, leaving the bed to be made 
when the queen had gone to Mass. This same lady 
prepared the water for washing the queen's feet when 
her Majesty did not take a bath. Except when she 
was at Saint-Cloud, where she had a bathroom ad- 
joining her bedroom, the queen used a sabot ^ which 
was rolled in and out of her room ; after the bath the 
queen's waiting- women entered. The queen took 
her bath clad in a long chemise of English flannel 
buttoned down to the hem, with collar and cuffs lined 
with soft linen. On getting out of her bath, the chief 
lady-in-waiting held a sheet so as to conceal her 
Majesty from the waiting-women, and then flung it 
over the queen's shoulders. The bathing-women 
having rolled her up in it, she was carefully dried ; 
she then put on a very long, loose-fitting night-dress, 
richly trimmed with lace, and a white silk dressing- 
gown. The waiting-women having warmed the bed, 
the queen thus clad lay down in bed again, and the 
bathinpf-women and footmen removed the sabot. On 
the days when the queen took a bath, she always ate 
her breakfast while in her bath. It was the maid-of- 

* Sabot : a bath shaped like a huge shoe ; see prints of the assassina- 
tion of Marat. 

48 



A VICTIM TO ETIQUETTE 

honour's duty when her Majesty did not have a bath, 
to pour out the water for her to wash her hands and 
to put her chemise over her head ; this duty she re- 
Hnguished whenever a princess belonging to the royal 
family happened to be present, in which case she 
handed the chemise to the chief lady-in-waiting, who 
then presented it to the princess. . . . The queen 
happened one cold winter's day to be already un- 
dressed and about to put on her chemise ; I was 
holding it out to her when a maid-of-honour entered, 
tore off her gloves and took the chemise from my 
hands. Somebody was heard knocking at the door ; 
it was opened and Mme la duchesse d'Orleans 
entered ; she immediately took off her gloves and 
advanced in order to take the chemise ; however, as 
it was not the maid-of-honour's place to give it into 
her hands, she gave it to me and I presented it to the 
princess. Again somebody was heard knocking at 
the door ; this time it was Mme la comtesse de 
Provence, whereupon the duchess presented the 
chemise to her. Meanwhile the queen was standing 
with her arms crossed over her chest and seemed to 
be feeling very cold. Madame, seeing how uncom- 
fortable her Majesty looked, forebore to waste more 
time by removing her gloves and merely dropped her 
handkerchief; in putting the chemise over the queen's 
head, she pulled the latter's hair down, whereupon 
her Majesty began to laugh in order to hide her 
annoyance, while she muttered between her teeth : — 

"'How odious! what a horrible fuss about 
nothing ! ' 

** The queen's official toilet took place at midday. 
The dressing-table was pushed into the middle of 
D 49 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

the room ; this piece of furniture was usually the 
handsomest and most ornamented in the royal 
apartment. . . . 

**The queen slept in a bodice trimmed with 
ribbon, the sleeves were covered with lace and there 
was a lace fichu. The queen's dressing-gown was 
presented to her by her chief waiting-woman if she 
happened to be alone ; or if the maids-of-honour were 
present, that duty devolved upon them. At midday 
those ladies who had waited upon the queen for the 
last twenty-four hours were relieved by two waiting- 
women in full dress. Anybody having the grande 
entree was now admitted ; folding-stools were brought 
and placed in a circle for the superintendent, the 
maids-of-honour, and the governess of the Children of 
France when she happened to be present. 

" The duties of the ladies of the palace, which did 
not include any menial services, only commenced 
when the queen left her private apartments in order 
to go to Mass ; these ladies waited in the large study 
and entered when her toilet was completed. The 
princes of the blood royal, the officers of the king's 
body-guard, and other officials paid their respects to 
the queen while her hair was being dressed. The 
queen either nodded her head, bowed slightly, or else 
bent over her toilet-table when any princes of the 
blood entered. The king's brothers usually came to 
pay their duty to her Majesty at this moment. 
During the first years of her reign she dressed in her 
bedroom, that is to say the maid-of-honour helped the 
queen to put on her chemise and poured out the 
water for her to wash her hands. But when the 
young queen began to pay more attention to fashion, 

50 



SOME IMPOLITE VISITORS 

when head-dresses became so high that ladies had to 
step into their chemises ; when, in short, she wished 
Mile Bertin to attend at her toilet (Mile Bertin, to 
whom the queen's ladies had refused the honour of 
attending their mistress), her Majesty ceased to dress 
in her bedroom. So, having courtesied to all the 
company, the queen would retire to her dressing-room 
to finish her toilet. ..." 

Marie Antoinette's first years of married life were 
clouded by the fact that she had borne her husband 
no children. When, in 1775, she had to assist at the 
accouchement of her sister-in-law, the comtesse 
d'Artois, whose marriage was of more recent date 
than her own, she had a very unpleasant experience, 
for, on coming out of the young mother's room, she 
ran into the arms of a deputation of fishwives, who 
pursued her to her own apartments, making uncom- 
plimentary remarks concerning her unwillingness or 
inability to supply an heir to the throne. The 
comtesse d'Artois became quite popular, only for a 
time, however, for she was generally insignificant and 
had no pretensions to beauty, her rather fresh com- 
plexion being spoilt by a long thin nose. 

Marie Antoinette proved herself in the day of 
trouble far too good a mother not to have been 
endowed with similar feelings to those which had 
made the little Henriette Genest long to play the 
mother to all the babies she happened to know. 
Mme Campan tells us that Marie Antoinette, until 
she had children of her own, was in the habit of 
petting and spoiling her servants' children. Still she 
was not content ; and while looking about for a 
suitable child to adopt as her own, a happy accident 

51 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

enabled her to find what she was looking for. Mme 
Campan relates the incident as follows : — 

" One day, while the queen was driving through 
the village of Saint-Michel near Luciennes, a pretty, 
blue-eyed, fair-haired, little child of four years of age, 
the picture of health, ran in front of her horses. 
When the coachman and the postillions had stopped 
the carriage and dragged the child from beneath the 
horses' hoofs, it was discovered that he had not got 
so much as a scratch. His grandmother rushed to the 
door of her cottage in order to fetch him, but the 
queen, standing up in her carriage, stretched out her 
arms towards the old peasant woman, crying that the 
child must belong to her, that Fate had given him to 
her to comfort her, doubtless, until she had a child of 
her own. 

"' Is his mother alive?' asked she. 

" ' No, Madame,' replied the peasant-woman, ' my 
daughter died last winter, leaving me with five little 
children to feed.' 

" ' I will take this one and see that the others do 
not want for anything. Do you consent ? ' asked the 
queen. 

" ' Oh ! Madame, they will be only too happy,' was 
the answer ; ' but Jacques is a very naughty boy : 
will he stay with you ? ' 

" The queen took little Jacques on her knee, said 
that he would soon get accustomed to her, and ordered 
her coachman to drive on. The drive came to a 
sudden end, so frightfully did Jacques scream and so 
lustily did he kick the queen and her ladies. Marie 
Antoinette's household at Versailles was much 
astonished when she appeared holding the little 

52 



LITTLE JACQUES IS REBAPTIZED 

village brat by the hand ; he yelled with all his might, 
bawled out that he wanted his grandam, his brother 
Louis, his sister Marianne ; nothing silenced him. 
He was carried to the wife of one of the queen's 
servants, who was to be his nurse. The other children 
were boarded out. Two days later little Jacques, 
now called Armand, was brought to see the queen : a 
white, lace-trimmed frock, a pink sash with a silver 
fringe and a hat covered with plumes had taken the 
place of the worsted cap, red petticoat, and wooden 
shoes. The child was really very beautiful. The 
queen was delighted ; he came to see her every 
morning at nine o'clock, and breakfasted and dined 
with her when the king was often present. Though 
nobody ever heard her give vent to the regret with 
which her heart was filled, she loved to fondle him 
and call him *my child. . . .'" 

When in 1778 these futile attempts to appease 
her maternal instincts were rendered unnecessary by 
the knowledge that she would soon have a child of 
her own, poor little Jacques^ and his brothers and 
sisters were as completely forgotten as if they had 
never existed. Royalty soon wearies of its pup- 
pets. 

A few days before the birth of Marie Antoinette's 
first child, the Court was amazed by the discovery of 
a bundle of libellous songs concerning the queen's 
favourites which somebody had flung through the 
(Eil de Bceuf. A fortnight later the writer's name was 

^ Jacques showed that he, too, had a short memory when he became 
one of Marie Antoinette's most bitter enemies. Having volunteered 
during the Revolution to defend his fatherland, he was killed at the 
battle of Jemappes (1792). 

53 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

in everybody's mouth : it was M. de Champcenetz,^ 
from whom Mesdames had purchased the estate of 
Bellevue. However, everything is forgiven to a wag, 
and his crime was soon forgotten. 

The nation had expressed great delight at the 
thought that the queen was about to provide an heir 
to the throne of France ; so when it was known that 
the long-expected child was a girl, the future Orphan 
of the Temple, many persons were genuinely dis- 
appointed. The queen was in much danger at one 
time, and it was feared that she would lose her life. 
The comte d'Esterhazy and the prince de Poix had 
worked themselves up into such a state of nervousness 
and excitement that when Mme Campan came to 
inform them that the queen was no longer in danger, 
they fell upon her neck and kissed her with tears 
running down their pale faces. 

The France of those days was scarcely less 
superstitious than her neighbours, Spain and Italy. 
Soon after the queen had begun to resume her daily 
habits, M. Campan pere received a letter from the 
cur^ of the Madeleine asking him to fix a secret 
interview. During that interview M. Campan was 
much astonished to see the cur^ hand him a little box 
containing a wedding ring, with a request that he 
would give it to the queen in secret and adding : 
" While hearing a confession I received this ring, the 
queen's wedding ring, which was stolen from her in 
1 77 1 by somebody who wished to bewitch her and 
prevent her bearing children." 

^ When M. de Champcenetz was arrested and dragged before the 
revolutionary tribunal, he asked, on hearing himself sentenced to death, 
whether he could not find somebody to take his place. 

54 



MESMER VISITS PARIS 

M, Campan was still more astonished when, on 
returning the ring to the queen, she told him that she 
had lost it seven years ago while washing her hands, 
but that suspecting the reason for which it had been 
stolen, she had refrained from endeavouring to trace 
the thief lest she should be thought superstitious. 

Among the famous persons who flocked to Paris 
about this time was Mesmer, who first became known 
to the world as the author of the work, De planetarum 
infiuxu, published while he was in Vienna, where he 
had amazed everybody by his theories concerning 
animal magnetism. His appearance in the French 
capital was hailed with delight by a crowd of idle folk 
keen for any new sensation. The Faculty, however, 
at first received his attempts to show what power the 
mind exercises over diseases of the body with derision, 
for which, as he foolishly made a mystery of his 
magnetic power, which he called his "secret" and 
refused to sell to the government for the sum of 
20,000 livres, he was partly responsible. His "tub 
treatment " was undoubtedly a precursor of the 
electrical baths of to-day. 

Mesmer, tall, handsome, with the imposing manner 
and the deep-set eye of the born mesmerist, became 
the talk of the day. On first setting up in Paris, he 
treated the poor gratuitously, and then began with a 
few paying patients whom he consented to tend in 
his own splendidly furnished apartment for ten louts 
a month. He soon raised his terms, however, where- 
upon his patients grew more and more numerous. 
One of the forms of treatment consisted of the famous 
baquets or tubs ; the patients were seated in a circle 
round a covered tub from which protruded a number 

55 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

of ropes and wires which could be moved in any 
direction ; the ropes having been fastened round the 
patients' bodies, they were instructed to seize hold of 
the wires and apply them to any painful spot. At a 
given signal the patients dropped the wires and joined 
hands : this was called " making a chain." The 
treatment was carried on in a darkened room to the 
accompaniment of hidden music and was interrupted 
by frequent fits of hysterics among the patients. 
A prolonged stance usually ended with a chorus of 
insane laughter and yells of agony. 

The baquets were as numerous as the diseases 
which they were supposed to cure : they included not 
only la feiiime baqtiet and rhomme baquet, but also 
le cheval baquet, le chien baquet, la poule baquet, le 
inouton baquet, Pane baquet ; there were likewise 
"moral" and "vicious tubs," warranted to cure 
diseases of the soul. 

Mme Campan's husband happened to be in poor 
health at the time of Mesmer's appearance in the 
French capital ; she gives her own experience of 
Mesmer's methods of curing disease in the following 
amusing anecdote : — 

"My husband, like many another who wanted to 
be in the fashion, was a partisan of Mesmer. It was 
quite the thing to be magnetized ; it was more than a 
craze, it was a mania. One heard of nothing in the 
Paris salons but this brilliant discovery ; people were 
to live for ever. The public went quite crazy and im- 
agined all sorts of ridiculous things; everybody wanted 
to have his or herself mesmerized. Mesmer's peculiar 
phraseology had produced this strange state of affairs. 
The only way to put a stop to the craze was to get 

56 



A STRANGE CURE 

the Court to buy the secret, on which its owner had 
placed an extremely high price ; 50,000 dcus had 
already been offered. By a very strange chance I 
happened one day to find myself at one of these 
stances of somnambulism : so great was the enthusiasm 
of the numerous spectators that many of them rolled 
their eyes and made hideous faces ; a stranger might 
have thought himself in a lunatic asylum. Astonished 
to see so many persons almost delirious, I retired in 
disgust. 

" My husband was suffering at that time from 
inflammation of the lungs ; he had himself taken to 
Mesmer's house. When I entered M. Campan's sick- 
room, I asked the thaumaturgus what treatment he 
proposed to prescribe. He replied with the greatest 
coolness that, in order to obtain a prompt and 
permanent cure, he must place either a dark-haired 
young woman, a black hen, or an empty bottle in the 
sick man's bed next his heart. 

" ' Monsieur,' said I, 'if it is all the same to you, 
I should prefer the empty bottle.' 

" The illness made rapid strides ; the patient's 
breathing became laboured, his chest was sore ; the 
magnetic cures had no effect. Mesmer, perceiving 
that his patient was no better, seized the opportunity 
when I happened to be absent from the sick-room in 
order to put blisters on the invalid ; I was not in- 
formed of this fact until the latter was well again. M. 
Campan was later asked to write a testimonial stating 
that he had been cured by magnetism alone ; he did 
so. This act shows to what lengths an enthusiast 
will go ; truth has no power over such a person. On 
returning to the palace, their Majesties asked me what 

57 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

I thought of Mesmer's discovery ; I told them what 
had happened, and expressed my indignation at such a 
shameless charlatan. It was immediately decided that 
no more was to be said about buying the secret. ..." 

When in 1781 the queen had fresh hopes of 
becoming a mother, her joy knew no bounds. Mme 
Campan, although delighted at her royal mistress's 
good spirits, was sometimes tempted to curb her, at 
least so Leonard, the queen's hairdresser, tells us. 

" One morning before the birth of the queen's 
second child," says he, "I found her Majesty in 
such a good humour that I ventured to make one 
or two diverting remarks while I was dressing her 
hair. Mme Campan began making signs to me to 
stop my ceaseless flow of conversation, but Marie 
Antoinette laughed until the tears came into her eyes 
and said : — 

" ' Go on, Leonard, go on ; how very amusing ! ' " 

And, nothing loath, Leonard begins, notwithstand- 
ing Mme Campan's frowns and signs to cease, one of 
those so-called witty but in reality highly indecorous 
anecdotes with which his memoirs are filled, and this 
to the queen's evident satisfaction. 

With what delight did Louis xvi learn on October 
22, 1 78 1, that his wife had given him the longed-for 
heir. Mme Campan witnessed his joy ; she tells us 
how the tears streamed from his eyes whenever he 
looked at the baby, whom he was never tired of 
calling *'my son" and "the Dauphin," and about 
whom he would talk whenever he could find somebody 
willing to listen to him, how he wanted to shake hands 
with everybody, and how this newly found happiness 
completely changed his somewhat reserved character. 

58 



THE BIRTH OF THE FIRST DAUPHIN 

One of the happiest results of the child's birth was 
that it not only brought the parents nearer together, 
but it also gave satisfaction to a certain portion of the 
nation. That satisfaction, however, like the little 
one's life, was of short duration. 

Mme Campan paints an interesting picture of 
how the Parisians manifested their pleasure on this 
occasion : — 

"The different corporations of Paris spent consider- 
able sums on expeditions to Versailles ; their arrival, 
clad in elegant habiliments and carrying their different 
emblems, made a very pleasant scene ; nearly all of 
them had bands marching at their head. On entering 
the courtyard of the palace they displayed much intelli- 
gence in the way in which they arranged themselves 
in groups. Chimney-sweeps, as finely dressed as any 
stage chimney-sweep, bore a highly decorated chimney 
on the top of which one of their smallest members 
was perched ; chairmen carried a much gilded sedan- 
chair in which sat a beautiful notmou holding a little 
Dauphin in her lap ; the butchers appeared with their 
fat ox ; the pastry-cooks, the bricklayers, the lock- 
smiths — all trades were represented ; the farriers were 
striking on an anvil ; the shoemakers were making a 
little pair of boots for the Dauphin, the tailors a little 
regimental uniform. ..." 

The king watched the scene from his balcony, 
that same balcony upon which Marie Antoinette 
stood eight years later and heard that horrible cry : 
"No children ! " 

But what malcontent, fatalist, or philosopher 
prompted the Paris grave-diggers to send a deputa- 
tion bearing a tiny coffin, two spades, and a little 

59 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

tombstone ? Madame Sophie, the Ugly Duckling, 
was the first to notice the spoil-sports ; half choking 
with fury she hobbled off to her nephew's apartment 
and demanded that he should have the ** insolent 
fellows " turned out of the procession. 

It was Mme Campan's duty to receive fifty ladies 
from the Paris halles clad in their best clothes — in 
many cases, a black silk dress and diamonds. Three 
of these dames were then ushered into the young 
mother's bedroom, when one of their number, who 
had a fine speaking voice and was pretty into the 
bargain, pulled a fan from her pocket and began to 
read a speech written on the back of it from the pen 
of M. de La Harpe, whose political opinions, like the 
fan, had an obverse and a reverse. The queen was 
more gracious to the ladies from the markets than 
to the fishwives, whose remarks upon her sterility 
had caused her to shed many a tear. However, the 
fishwives were determined not to be behind hand, so 
they came to Versailles and made numerous speeches. 
To the happy father they said : " We are now con- 
vinced that our children will be as happy as we have 
been, for this child will resemble you." 

When brought to the queen's bedside, they de- 
clared : "We have loved you so long without daring 
to tell you so, Madame, that we have need of all our 
respect in order not to abuse the permission to speak 
out." 

They then proceeded to harangue Monseigneur le 
Dauphin while he lay in his lace-trimmed cradle ; he 
probably continued to suck his thumb in sublime 
disdain, or perhaps he puckered up his mouth and 
made faces at his loyal subjects. To him they said : — 

60 



MESDAMES GIVE BAD ADVICE 

"You cannot understand the wishes which we 
now make around your cradle ; but some day you 
will be told how our dearest wish is to see you 
resemble the authors of your being." 

But it is a far cry from Paris to Versailles, and the 
ladies were glad of the dinner which the king provided 
for them. " Many of the inhabitants of Versailles came 
to see them at dinner," says Mme Campan. Before 
returning to the capital the guests sang the following 
song in honour of the new little Dauphin : — 

"Ne daignez pas, cher papa, 
D'voir augmenter vot' famille, 
Le bon Dieu z'y pourvoira : 

Fait 's-en-tant qu' Versaille en fourmille ; 
'Y eut-il cent Bourbons cheu nous, 
'Y a du pain, du laurier pour tous." 

Mme Campan does not say what her mistress 
replied to these polite speeches ; however, she describes 
how the king's aunts were in the habit of acting on 
similar occasions : — 

" Mesdames no longer took the trouble to articu- 
late any reply. Madame Adelaide scolded the queen 
for not following their example, assuring her that she 
need only mumble a few words, for the speech- 
makers, completely taken up with their own perform- 
ance, would be sure to declare that she had said the 
very thing she ought to say." 

In her work, De I Education, Mme Campan says : 
" Education begins in the cradle," and goes on to 
depict the trials of peasant-women uprooted from 
their healthy homes and transplanted to the capital ; 
she ends by begging her readers to be very careful in 
their choice of a nurse for their children. 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" I myself saw the first Dauphin's nurse suddenly 
become enormously stout owing to want of exercise. 
She used to be sent to walk up and down the terrace ; 
but this exercise was quite insufficient for a country- 
woman, and the young prince's bad health was later 
attributed to his nurse's excessive stoutness." 

In the following year the Court of Versailles was 
visited by two princes, who, like their hosts, were to 
perish by the hands of their faithful subjects ; they 
were the king of Sweden,^ who travelled as the comte 
d'Haga, and the comte du Nord, the future czar 
Paul i.^ Many fetes were given in their honour. 
Mme Campan noticed that the king and queen were 
much more at their ease with the future czar than 
with the comte d'Haga, whom the queen positively 
disliked notwithstanding his friendship for France. 
Marie Antoinette was never a good judge of character, 
and she made a mistake in preferring the comte du 
Nord to the comte d'Haga. 

Mme Campan overheard a conversation between 
Louis XVI and the future czar ; the French king having 
incautiously asked his guest if it was true that he 
could not trust a single member of his suite, the 
comte du Nord replied in the presence of a number of 
persons that the rumour was quite correct, and added 
that he dared not keep a favourite dog, because he 
was sure that his mother would order it to be thrown 
into the Seine with a stone round its neck. 

1 Gustavus in, king of Sweden (1746-1792), was assassinated while 
at a ball by Ankarstroem, the leader of a conspiracy. 

2 /'^^^//(Petro witch), czar of Russia from 1796 to 1801, succeeded his 
mother, Catherine ll. After having joined the second coalition against 
France, he concluded an alliance with Napoleon. He was likewise 
assassinated. 

62 



COMTE D'HAGA COMES TO VERSAILLES 

The comte d'Haga's visit caused Mme Campan to 
spend many unpleasant quarters of an hour owing to 
a little habit he had of dropping in to dinner or supper 
uninvited ; and though no one would suspect that the 
arrival of an unexpected guest was calculated to 
cause Marie Antoinette's cook to imitate the immortal 
Vatel, it would seem that the queen either feigned, or 
really entertained doubts as to whether the royal 
larder could stand the strain of an extra guest. Mme 
Campan says : — 

"He came one day without an invitation and 
without having given notice, and asked the queen to 
let him stay to dinner. She received him in her 
boudoir and immediately sent for me. She then 
commanded me to interview her chef without further 
delay, and to find out if there was enough dinner for 
M. le comte d'Haga, and to add something if there 
was not sufficient. The king of Sweden assured her 
that he was quite certain there would be enough for him, 
at which I, thinking of the huge meal which was 
always prepared for the king and queen, and more 
than half of which never appeared upon the table 
when their Majesties dined alone, smiled involuntarily. 

" The queen signed to me to leave the room, which 
I did. In the evening the queen asked me why I 
had seemed so taken aback when she ordered me to 
add to the dinner if it was not sufficient, and observed 
that I ought to have seen that she wanted to give the 
king of Sweden a lesson in politeness. I confessed to 
her that the whole affair had reminded me so strongly 
of a scene often enacted in less wealthy homes, that I 
had immediately thought of ordering grilled cutlets 
and an omelet, the usual fare when an unexpected 

63 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

guest turns up. She laughed heartily at my reply, 
and repeated it to the king, who also laughed. . . ." 

During the same year Marie Antoinette took her 
little daughter, now aged four years, to visit her 
husband's aunt, Louise, in the Carmelite convent at 
Saint- Denis. 

Marie Antoinette, fearful lest the nun's severe 
costume should frighten the little girl, commanded 
Mme Campan to dress one of the child's dolls as a 
Carmelite nun. On the occasion of this visit the 
child, as she was just about to be inoculated, was not 
allowed to partake of the toothsome dainties which 
her great-aunt had prepared for her. As Madame 
Royale did not protest, although she was probably 
very hungry, a nun, remarking that the child carefully 
picked up and ate all the crumbs of the one brioche 
she was allowed to have, immediately cried out that 
Madame Royale's submission and frugal habits de- 
noted a vocation, and asked the queen whether she 
would permit her daughter to take the veil. 

" I should be much flattered," answered Marie 
Antoinette. 

When bidding farewell to her aunt and the other 
nuns, the queen called Madame Royale and asked her 
if she had nothing to say to the ladies. 

" Mesdames," replied the little creature with a 
deep courtesy, *' pray for me at Mass, I beg." 

During the cruel winter of 1783-84, when the king 
distributed in charity three million francs — a mere 
drop in an ocean of misery — Marie Antoinette gave 
her little daughter her first lesson in alms-gfivino-. 
Everybody knows that New Year's Day is the day of 
days in France. Marie Antoinette was in the habit 

64 




Copyright byl 



Madame Royale. 

From a painting by Greuze. 



[Braun &' Co. 



A SALUTARY LESSON 

of sending to Paris a day or two before that fete for 
new toys for her little ones. That year Mme Campan 
ransacked all the toyshops in the capital and returned 
laden with the most beautiful toys imaginable, which 
were then arranged in the queen's boudoir. Marie 
Antoinette entered leading her children by the hand ; 
but instead of allowing the little ones to grasp the 
treasures, she restrained them, saying : — 

" I should like to have given you these pretty 
things, but the winter is very severe this year and 
there are many, many unhappy creatures who have 
nothing to eat, no clothes, nor wood to warm them- 
selves. I have given all my money away in order to 
help them ; I have none left for presents, so you 
must do without this year." 

Mme Campan says that when Marie Antoinette 
took the children out of the room they, and especially 
la petite Madame as she was often called, seemed quite 
awed by their mother's little sermon. 



65 



CHAPTER IV 

The affair of the queen's necklace — Birth of Mme Campan's only child 
— Death of Madame Louise — Unpopularity of Marie Antoinette — 
Death of the first Dauphin. 

Mme Campan, as Marie Antoinette's waiting-woman, 
played a somewhat important role in the affair of the 
queen's necklace. In 1774 Marie Antoinette had 
bought from the celebrated jeweller Boehmer a set 
of diamonds for 360,000 francs, which sum she 
promised to pay in instalments, so much every year 
until the debt was paid off. Boehmer knew, like 
everybody else, that the queen was passionately fond 
of jewels ; he began collecting all the most beautiful 
stones he could find in the hope that when that collec- 
tion was completed he would be able to tempt the 
queen to persuade her husband to buy it for her. 

After some years of searching, Boehmer succeeded 
in forming a most beautiful necklace which he showed 
to M. Campan /^r^, begging him as a favour to place 
it before the king. M. Campan was an honest man ; 
the year of famine had come, and M. Campan, on 
hearing that the price was 1,600,000 francs, unwilling 
to be instrumental in persuading the queen to indulge 
her passion for jewels, refused to have anything to do 
with the affair. Boehmer, with the help of a little 
flattery, or a golden key, persuaded another member 
of the royal household to show the jewel to his 

66 



AN IMPORTUNATE JEWELLER 

Majesty. Louis xvi expressed great admiration, and 
manifested a desire to see the queen wear the necklace. 
But when it was exhibited to Marie Antoinette, she 
wisely refused to buy any more jewels, giving as her 
reason : *' We have greater need of a ship than of a 
necklace." 

Boehmer in despair took the necklace to different 
Courts, but nobody was willing to give the price 
demanded. A year later Bcehmer, now on the verge 
of bankruptcy, returned to France and offered to sell 
the jewel to the queen at a reduced price. Mme 
Campan was present during this interview. 

" I remember," says she, "that the queen told him 
that if the conditions of purchase were really not 
extravagant, the king might buy the necklace as a 
wedding-present for one of his children, but that she 
herself would never wear it." 

Whereupon Louis xvi replied that his children 
might not live to grow up — two of them did not do so 
— and that the money would therefore be thrown 
away. But Bcehmer would not confess himself 
defeated. 

Some months later he begged the queen to grant 
him an interview — which she very imprudently did. 
Boehmer began by saying that if she did not buy the 
necklace he should be ruined and he should then 
drown himself. The queen, annoyed at his impor- 
tunity, ordered him to leave her presence as she had 
no intention of purchasing anything more from him. 
Bcehmer retired apparently overwhelmed with despair. 
The queen, thinking that she had been harsh in her 
manner, charged Mme Campan to find out whether 
Boehmer had carried out his intention of committing 

67 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

suicide, but that lady soon heard that far from doing 
anything so foolish, M. Boehmer had disposed of his 
" white elephant " to the Sultan of Turkey that it might 
adorn the shoulders of a favourite slave. 

Relieved in her mind that her passion for jewels 
had not caused a tragedy, Marie Antoinette, after 
expressing surprise that Boehmer should have found 
a customer so quickly, promptly forgot the whole affair, 
until the baptism in 1785 of one of the royal children 
caused her to order the jewelled shoulder- and sword- 
knots which their Majesties always presented to a 
royal infant. This order, notwithstanding certain 
disagreeable incidents, Marie Antoinette foolishly 
entrusted to Boehmer. The jeweller chose the moment 
when the queen was coming out of her chapel in 
which to present the ornaments, and with them a 
scrap of paper in which he begged the queen " not to 
forget him, and expressed his satisfaction at the 
thought that her Majesty now owned the most beautiful 
necklace in Europe." This last sentence made the 
queen start and turn pale. Had the man gone quite 
crazy ? What did he mean ? She expressed her 
surprise to M. Campan that evening when in her 
library ; then having read the letter to her waiting- 
woman, she twisted it up, and burnt it at a taper used 
for sealing letters, saying — 

" It is not worth keeping." 

Before retiring to rest the queen said to Mme 
Campan : — 

" Does he mean that he has made another collec- 
tion of jewels ? I should be sorry if he had done so, 
for I do not intend to have any further dealings with 
him. If I want to have my diamonds re-set, I shall 

68 



MARIE ANTOINETTE AND NECKLACE 

employ my plate-cleaner who has never even tried to 
sell me a single carat. The fellow is fated to torment 
me ; he always has some crazy plan in his head. Be 
sure to remember to tell him when next you see him 
that I no longer care for diamonds, and that I will 
never buy another as long as I live ; that if I had any 
money to spend on myself, I should prefer to add to 
my property at Saint-Cloud ; explain all this to him 
and make him thoroughly understand." 

Mme Campan then asked her mistress if she 
wished Boehmer to come and see her, but Marie 
Antoinette replied " No," that the slightest attempt at 
arguing with such a man would be most unseemly, and 
that she only desired her waiting-woman to speak to 
him on the earliest opportunity. 

We will now hear how Mme Campan executed 
the queen's commission, and what reply she obtained 
from Boehmer : — 

" I then went to stay with my father-in-law at his 
country-seat at Crespy, where he was in the habit of 
having friends to dinner on Sundays. Boehmer 
usually came there two or three times in the summer. 
No sooner had I arrived than he appeared. I faith- 
fully repeated to him all the queen had told me to tell 
him ; he seemed petrified with astonishment, and 
asked me how it was that the queen had not under- 
stood what was written on the paper he had handed 
to her. 

*" I myself read it,' I replied, 'and I could not 
understand a word of it.' 

" ' I am not surprised that you did not,' answered 
Boehmer. He added that I was not in the secret, and 
begged me to grant him a private interview so that 

69 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

he might relate all that had passed between him and 
the queen. I told him that I could not see him before 
nightfall, when the guests would be returning to Paris. 
When my presence was no longer necessary in the 
salon, I went and walked with Boehmer up and down 
one of the garden-paths. I believe I can remember 
every word of the conversation which then took place 
between that man and myself. I was so terrified on 
discovering that vilest and most dangerous intrigue, 
that every word remained engraved on my memory. 
I was so overwhelmed with grief, I foresaw so many 
dangers should the queen try to disculpate herself, 
that I took no notice of a thunderstorm which came 
on while I was talking to Boehmer. I began thus : 

" ' What is the meaning of the paper w^hich you 
handed to her Majesty last Sunday as she was 
leaving the chapel ? ' 

" Boehmer. — ' The queen must surely know, 
Madame.' 

" Mme Campan. — ' Excuse me, she charged me to 
ask you.' 

"^.— 'I did it for fun.' 

''Mme C. — 'What can fun possibly have to do 
with your relations with the queen ? She, as you 
know, seldom wears full dress nowadays : you your- 
self told me that the extreme simplicity of the Court 
of Versailles was doing harm to your business. She 
fears that you will make something else for her, and 
she charged me to tell you that she will never buy 
another diamond.' 

'' B. — 'I believe you, Madame — she has no need 
to do so. But what did she say about the money ? ' 

" Mme C. — ' Your bill was paid long ago.' 

70 



THE SHADOW OF SCARLET ROBES 

'' B. — *Ah! Madame, you are finely mistaken! 
She owes me a very large sum ! ' 

" Mme C. — * What do you mean ? ' 

•* B. — ' I see I must confess everything ; the 
queen has purposely left you in the dark ; she has 
bought my big necklace.' 

''Mme C. — * The queen ? But she refused to buy 
it, as she refused to allow the king to give it to her.' 

'' B. — 'Well, she changed her mind.' 

** Mme C. — ' If she had changed her mind, she 
would have told the king. I have never seen the 
necklace among the queen's diamonds.' 

'' B. — ' She was to have worn it on Whitsunday ; 
I was much astonished to see that she did not do so.' 

" Mme C. — ' When did the queen tell you that she 
had made up her mind to purchase your necklace ? ' 

" B. — * She herself has never mentioned the subject 
to me.' 

''Mme C. — 'Who then acted for her in the 
matter ? ' 

"^.— 'The cardinal de Rohan.' ' 

" Mme C. — ' She has not spoken to him for eight 
years ! I don't know the thief's name, my dear 
Boehmer, but it is quite certain that you have been 
cheated.' 

" B. — 'The queen pretends to be on bad terms 
with his Eminence, but they are really the best of 
friends.' 

" Mme C. — ' What do you mean ? The queen 
pretends to be on bad terms with such an important 

^ Louis Rene, prince de Rohan (1734- 1803), cardinal. After the affair 
of the queen's necklace he was exiled to the monastery of Chaise-Dieu. 
He emigrated during the Revolution and joined the prince de Conde. 

71 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

person at Court ? Sovereigns usually keep on good 
terms with such personages. For four years she 
pretended that she did not wish to buy or accept your 
necklace ? She buys it and pretends that she has 
forgotten that fact because she never wears it ? You 
are crazy, my dear Boehmer, and I see that you have 
got mixed up in an intrigue which makes me tremble 
for you and grieve for her Majesty. When I asked 
you six months ago what had become of the necklace 
and to whom you had sold it, you told me that you 
had sold it to the Sultan of Turkey.' 

'' B. — ' I replied as the queen wished me to reply ; 
it was she who told the cardinal to order me to make 
that reply.' 

'' Mme C. — 'Well then, how were her Majesty's 
commands transmitted to you ?' 

'' B. — 'On papers bearing her signature; for 
some time past I have been obliged to show them to 
my creditors in order to appease them.' 

" Mine C. — ' Have you, then, never received any- 
thing ? ' 

" B. — ' Excuse me, I received a sum of 30,000 
francs in notes which her Majesty told the cardinal to 
give me when I delivered the necklace to him. And 
you can be quite certain that he has private inter- 
views with her Majesty, for he told me when he gave 
me the money that he saw her take it out of a pocket- 
book which she keeps in her escritoire with the Sevres 
china plaques which stands in her small boudoir.' 

'' Mme C. — 'All this is nothing but a tissue of 
lies ; and, having sworn to be faithful to the king and 
queen on accepting the post which you owe to them, 
you were guilty of a great crime in acting for the 

72 



BGEHMER PRACTISES DECEIT 

queen in such an important matter without the king's 
knowledge and without having received his verbal 
order.' . . ." 

Bcehmer seemed struck by this remark, and con- 
descended to ask Mme Campan what he had 
better do to clear up the intrigue. Mme Campan 
recommended him to go and see the baron de 
Breteuil who had charge of the crown jewels, confess 
what had happened, ask his advice — and follow it. 
Before leaving Crespy, however, Bcehmer made one 
more effort to get Mme Campan to explain everything 
to her mistress and thus save him a humiliating 
scene with the baron de Breteuil. This Mme 
Campan prudently refused to do, and told him that 
he must confess everything if he wanted to obtain the 
queen's pardon. When Bcehmer had departed, Mme 
Campan regretted that she had not accompanied him 
to Versailles ; however, her father-in-law persuaded 
her to remain quietly at Crespy until the queen sent 
for her. At the end of ten days the expected summons 
came. Marie Antoinette wrote that she was at the 
Petit Trianon studying the part of Rosina in the 
Ba7^bier de Seville, and that she was anxious to have 
Mme Campan's advice. Mme Campan, supposing 
that this was only a feint to hide her natural curiosity 
as to the outcome of her interview with Bcehmer, 
hastened to the Petit Trianon. She found the 
queen alone, having apparently completely forgotten 
Boehmer's existence, absorbed in the part of Rosina. 
After having repeated trills and roulades for a whole 
hour, the queen suddenly asked Mme Campan why 
she had sent Bcehmer to her, adding that she had 
refused to see him. Mme Campan was aghast at the 

1Z 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

fellow's impudence in pretending to go to Versailles 
in order to consult the baron de Breteuil, whereas his 
real motive was to interview the queen ; her face 
showed her dismay. Seeing how determined Boehmer 
was to have an explanation with her mistress, Mme 
Campan told her that, as her powerful enemy, the 
cardinal de Rohan, was concerned in the affair, she 
thought that the only way to clear up the intrigue 
which had evidently been concocted in order to sully 
the queen's character, was to grant the jeweller an 
interview. When she told Marie Antoinette that 
Boehmer was using papers signed with her name as 
an inducement to his creditors to give him time to 
pay his debts, the queen saw that she was standing 
on the brink of a precipice. Hitherto Boehmer's im- 
portunity had only annoyed her, but now she per- 
ceived a gleam of scarlet robes behind the once loved, 
now hated jewels. Having told Mme Campan to 
remain at Trianon, Marie Antoinette sent a messenger 
to Paris with orders to Boehmer to come immediately. 

However, the interview between the queen and 
her former jeweller did not have the desired effect ; it 
only showed Marie Antoinette what she had long 
suspected — that she had enemies among the highest 
and the lowest classes of society. 

Boehmer having been ushered into her boudoir, she 
asked him by what fatality she was still obliged to 
listen to reports of his mad assertions that he had 
sold her a necklace which she had refused over and 
over again to buy. He replied that he was obliged 
to do so in order to appease his creditors. 

"What do I care about your creditors?" retorted 
Marie Antoinette in her most insolent tone. 

74 



THE QUEEN'S WORD IS DOUBTED 

Whereupon Bcehmer repeated what he had 
already said to Mme Campan. 

The queen perceived that her reputation would 
be ruined if she could not manage to extricate herself 
from the net which her mother's enemy had cast over 
her. Had not Maria Theresa years ago asked that 
the cardinal might be removed from her Court on 
account of his scandalous behaviour? In vain the 
queen swore that she had never had the necklace, that 
she had always refused to buy it on account of its 
price. She could get Boehmer to say nothing but : — 
" Madame, it is too late to pretend ; be so kind as 
to confess you have my necklace and give me some 
money, or the mystery will soon be cleared up by my 
bankruptcy." 

Mme Campan was not present at this interview 
at the conclusion of which she found her mistress 
trembling with indignation and anger : to think that 
a low-born shopkeeper should dare to doubt her 
word ! that she should be suspected of buying jewels 
without her husband's consent was a cruel blow to 
the pride of Maria Theresa's daughter. She sent for 
her trusted councillor, the Abbe de Vermond. But 
neither he nor the baron de Breteuil were able to 
calm her fears. She cried to Mme Campan : — 

" This hideous crime must be laid bare. The 
whole of France and Europe shall know that the 
Roman purple and the title of prince only conceal an 
out-of-elbow, vulgar cheat who dares to try and com- 
promise his sovereign's spouse." 

The king's indignation on learning of the affair 
was scarcely less than that of the queen. He chose 
the following Sunday, the feast of the Assumption, to 

75 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

demand an explanation from the cardinal de Rohan. 
Just as the proud cardinal was stepping along in his 
bejewelled and lace-trimmed vestments on his way to 
celebrate Mass in the royal chapel at Versailles, he 
received a command from the king to appear before 
him and his aggrieved spouse in his study at mid- 
day. The cardinal's thoughts during the Mass must 
often have wandered from the sacred mystery which 
he was celebrating. 

In a tone of the deepest indignation the king 
began thus : — 

" Have you ever bought any diamonds of 
Bcehmer ? " 

*' Yes, Sire," replied the cardinal. 

"What have you done with them.'*" 

*' I believe they have been given to the queen." 

" Who gave you the commission ? " 

" A lady named the comtesse de Lamotte-Valois 
gave me a letter from the queen ; I thought I should 
please her Majesty by accepting the negotiation." 

Whereupon that much injured person broke in 
with : — 

" What, Monsieur, you, to whom I have not 
addressed one single word for the last eight years — 
how was it that you thought I should choose you to 
carry the matter through with the help of such a 
woman ? " 

The cardinal was visibly taken aback, but he 
replied : — 

** 1 see that I have been cruelly deceived ; I will 
pay for the necklace. I was blinded by my desire to 
please your Majesty. ... I did not suspect any fraud. 
... I am sorry." 

76 



THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN AT BAY 

As a proof of his good faith he took a letter from 
his pocket and showed it to the king and queen : it 
was an order to buy the jewel, and was not only 
addressed by Marie Antoinette to Mme de Lamotte, 
but it bore the signature " Marie Antoinette de 
France." However, the king immediately saw it was 
a forgery. *' This is neither the queen's handwriting 
nor her signature," said he ; "how could a prince of 
the house of Rohan and the king's chaplain imagine 
that the queen signed herself ' Marie Antoinette de 
France ' ? Everybody knows that queens only sign 
their Christian names, that even kinds' daugrhters 
have no other signature, and that, if the royal family 
added any other name, it would not be de France. . . . 
But tell me, monsieur, did you ever see this letter ? " 

So saying the king produced a copy of the 
missive supposed to have been written to Boehmer by 
the cardinal ; however, the latter swore that he had 
no recollection of ever having^ written it. 

*' But, as it bears your signature, would you not 
say it is genuine ? " 

"If the letter bears my signature it must be 
authentic," answered the cardinal, beginning to 
tremble and to turn pale, which seeing the king was 
confirmed in his suspicions. He pressed the point : — 

"Then please explain the whole enigma to me. 
I do not wish to make you out guilty ; I desire to 
hear you free yourself from blame. Explain to me 
the meaning of all your interviews with, and your 
letters and promises to Boehmer." 

The cardinal was trembling so he was obliged 
to lean against the table. His voice was thick as he 
stammered out : — 

77 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

"Sire, I am too overcome to reply to your 
Majesty just at present. ... I am not in a 
condition. . . ." 

"Calm yourself, Monsieur le cardinal" replied 
the king good-naturedly. " Go into my study where 
you will find paper, pens, and ink, and write what 
you have to tell me." 

The cardinal passed a very bad quarter of an hour 
trying to put his revelations on paper ; the written 
result was no better than the verbal explanation. 
The king glanced at the crumpled, ink-stained paper 
and said sternly — 

" Leave the room. Monsieur ! " 

A few minutes later the cardinal was arrested by 
M. d'Agoult, at the order of the baron de Breteuil. 
He was immediately taken to his own apartment 
under the charge of a young lieutenant, who was so 
overcome by the importance of his prisoner that he 
lost his head and practically allowed him to do 
whatever he liked. While leaving the gallery behind 
the royal chapel, the cardinal met his heiduque ; ^ 
having called him to his side, the ecclesiastic 
whispered in German that he had an important 
commission for him. Then, coolly turning to the 
young lieutenant, the cardinal asked him to lend him 
a pencil as he wished to send a message to a friend in 
Paris. Delighted to be of service to the cardinal 
de Rohan, the youth did as he was requested ; 
whereupon the wily prelate wrote in German to his 
grand-vicar, the Abbe Georgel, ordering him to burn 
all Mme de Lamotte's correspondence. And so 

^ Heiduque^ a servant ; a sort of courier usually dressed in Hungarian 
costume. 

78 



BIRTH OF MME CAMPAN'S ONLY CHILD 

history was cheated through the inexperience of a 
youth unaccustomed to the wiles of a cardinal. 

Some months afterwards, as no real proofs of de 
Rohan's culpability could be found, he was acquitted 
— by a majority of three votes only. 

" Marie Antoinette was completely crushed by 
the verdict," wrote Mme Campan, " for she considered 
that it was an insult to her dignity." And it was indeed 
a cruel blow to royalty in France, and one from 
which it never recovered. Mme Campan hints that 
Mme de Lamotte was allowed to escape to England, 
and perhaps she was right. So much did the 
Pope doubt the cardinal's good faith that he, in the 
following year, asked that de Rohan might be tried 
in Rome. 

One wonders how Mme Campan with all her 
numerous duties at Court found time to discharge 
those of wife and mother. She does not give the 
date of the birth of her only child, Henri ; but 
she tells us that when she was in Paris expecting 
her confinement, four messengers stayed in her house 
in order to carry the news to their respective masters 
and mistresses : Louis xvi, Marie Antoinette, 
Mesdames and Monsieur (later Louis xviii). On 
the birth of this child, Louis xvi made the baby's 
grandfather a nobleman, so that the little Henri 
might occupy a high post at Court at some future 
time. 

The year 1787 saw Mme Campan on the top 
wave of prosperity, for her salary — probably in 
recognition of her services to the queen in the 
Boehmer affair — was now raised to 115,000 francs. 

It was during this same year that one of her 

79 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

former mistresses, Madame Louise, passed away at 
her convent at Saint-Denis. Although this princess 
had nominally retired from the world, she, as we have 
already hinted, still wished to exercise influence over 
her relatives outside her convent walls. Not content 
with the three or four visits which the Court paid her 
every year, she continually wrote to the king begging 
him to interest himself in this or that deserving 
ecclesiastic. Marie Antoinette often complained to 
Mme Campan that her husband's aunt would not 
content herself with the daily routine of convent life, 
but must needs meddle with matters which did not 
concern her, a cloistered nun. Marie Antoinette 
would say : — 

" Here is yet another letter from my aunt Louise. 
She is the most intriguing little Carmelite in the 
kingdom." 

This is how Louis xvi announced the death of 
his aunt to her former lectrice. 

" My aunt Louise, your former mistress, has died 
at Saint-Denis : I have just received the news. Her 
piety and resignation were admirable. Nevertheless 
my good aunt, while delirious, still remembered that 
she was a princess, for her last words were : ' To 
Paradise, quick ! quick ! Whip up your horses ! ' 
She probably thought she was addressing her 
equerry." 

The endurance of the already much tried poorer 
classes in France was again put to the test during the 
winter of 1788-89. The oldest inhabitants of the 
capital could not remember another year when so 
much snow had fallen. The king and queen gave 
away huge sums of money. "In gratitude to 

80 



EPHEMERAL POPULARITY 

their sovereigns, the Parisians," says Mme Campan, 
" erected in some of the chief squares of the 
capital pyramids and obelisks of snow adorned with 
laudatory inscriptions." A pyramid in the rue dAn- 
giviller struck Mme Campan as being the most 
remarkable. " It rested on a base five or six feet 
high by twelve feet broad, and was surmounted 
by a globe ; the general effect was not wanting 
in elegance. Several inscriptions in honour of the 
king and queen were visible. I went to inspect 
this singular monument and I remember noting 
the following inscription : — 

"A Marie Antoinette. 

" Reine dont la beaute surpasse les appas, 

Prfes d'un roi bienfaisant occupe ici ta place. 
Si ce monument frele est de neige et de glace, 
Nos coeurs pour toi ne le sont pas. 
De ce monument sans exemple, 
Couple auguste, I'aspect bien doux pour votre coeur 
Sans doute vous plaira plus qu'un palais, qu'un temple 
Que vous elfeverait un peuple adulateur." 

The people's enthusiasm melted with the snow. 
The queen's few appearances in the capital during the 
spring of 1789 were marked by hostile demonstra- 
tions. On returning from one of these visits during 
the month of May, Marie Antoinette remarked to her 
husband's aunts a propos of the unfriendly reception 
accorded to her : " Oh ! ces indignes Frangaisl " where- 
upon Madame Adelaide, glad to be able to correct 
her nephew's wife, retorted : " Dites indignis, 
Madame r 

It was towards the end of this same month of 
May that Mme Campan witnessed a very curious 
F 81 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

scene, one of those strange incidents which prompted 
the poet to exclaim : — 

"There are more things in heaven and earth 
Than are dreamt of in our philosophy." 

While Marie Antoinette was seated one evening 
relating to her waiting-women several strange events 
which had happened during the day, one of the four 
wax candles on her dressing-table suddenly went out. 
Mme Campan promptly re-lighted it. No sooner had 
she done so when the second candle also went out. 
Mme Campan, astonished, looked to see whether a 
draught had caused the accident ; but the doors and 
windows were firmly closed. Scarcely had she re- 
lighted the candle and returned to her seat when the 
third candle went out in the same mysterious manner. 
Marie Antoinette, trembling with terror, seized her 
waiting-woman by the hand and said : — 

" Misfortune has the power to make us super- 
stitious ; if the fourth candle goes out like the others, 
nothing will prevent me considering it as a warning 
of some fatal event." 

While the queen was still speaking, the fourth 
candle spluttered for a second and then went out. 

Before a fortnight had elapsed the Dauphin was 
dead. 

This child, according to Mme Campan, was 
remarkably intelligent ; at two years of age he was 
able to talk as well as any child of six. On being 
given a box of sweetmeats adorned with his mother's 
portrait, he lisped : " Ah ! there is Mama's picture ! " 

He was very fond of animals. As his delicate 
health prevented him riding a horse, he was given a 
donkey instead. "This animal," remarked he one 

82 



THE FIRST DAUPHIN 

day to his great-aunts, " this animal is just as useful 
to me with its long ears as if it had none at all, so 
why should my dog's ears be cropped ? " 

His delicate health probably made him doubly 
precious to his parents, who tried to humour him in 
every way. 

Mme Campan noticed with dismay that at four 
years of age the little prince had ceased to care for 
his wooden horse and tin soldiers. 

" New Year's Day," says she, "was approaching ; 
the queen wished to give her son some gifts ; the 
Paris toyshops were turned inside out in order to 
tempt the prince's taste ; tables were arranged all 
round one of the largest rooms in the queen's suite. 
When everything was ready, the queen was informed. 
She took the young prince by the hand and told him 
to choose what he liked. I followed with my Henri, 
who had been playing with the Dauphin. We walked 
round the room and even I was astonished at the 
quantity of ingenious mechanical toys which the toy- 
seller wound up and set going : there were vintagers 
emptying baskets of grapes Into a vat in which other 
little figures were treading the fruit with their feet ; 
there were Russian ladies gliding along in sledges 
over the surface of a polished mirror ; there were 
farriers making horseshoes, a huntsman shooting at 
a hare running through a cornfield. Twenty other 
mechanical toys lay on the tables : there were pretty 
pieces of miniature mahogany furniture, horses with 
bright harness, Punches with the drollest faces in the 
world, sparkling with imitation jewels and gold lace. 
The queen continually paused to ask her son : 
' Would you like this, mon ami } ' The child calmly 

83 



IllK C la.KHUAlKl) IMAOAISIK C AIMPAN 

rcplit'cl : ' I've alreaily i^ot owe' ' Aiul that?' — ' I've 
j>\>t tliat also.'-- * \\\>uUl yi)u not liko tliis pretty 
Punch?' 'I've ba>kt"n three, 1 tlon'i want any 
more.'— ' \\ h.it about this hi>fse ? ' — ' I've* still i;ot 
one.'— They went round the room without I'nulino n 
sii\j^lo toy that pltMscnl him. 1 \c had ahwuly had so 
many cxponsivo toys that \\c no liMii^cr cart\l tor any ; 
mcanwhilo my son was jumjuni; with jo) and admira- 
tion at ovtMv n(>\v ohjtHl. \\c si}in"t^',cd my hand 
and whispered to nu* \\\\c\\ he adtnirc\l anythini^ very 
partieiilarh' ; his oxcittMntMU tormod a contplcte 
contrast \>ith tho voiuii^ prinros air ot weariness. 
riu> niic^cMi j;aN'e m\ smi se\cM.d iibjeets, whieh 
dc^hj^hied him so nuieh that we hail to put them at 
niiihl at the \oo{ ot his bed, so greatly did lie dread 
beino' paiied i\o\\\ his treasures. She rettirned to her 
boudvMi witlunii ha\in^ tound a sin^K^ prc^scMU tor the 
youui; piinee. The toy sellcM", while packing;" u[> his 
prettN- mechanical toys, said : ' It is yery sad to think 
that 1 have shown J/oHseij^ntur three hundred /outs' 
worth ot toys, and \ ei he does not care tor a sinv>lc 
one.' ..." 

The Pauphin had seycMal likes and dislikes 
atnoni^ his mothei's friends ; the iluchesse de Polii^ttac 
was his particular deU noire. Why ? Pecause she 
used very stron^ scet\t. Puriti^" his last illness she 
came into his room and. atter having asked after his 
health, proceedeil to t^d^Cvi seat by his bedside, upon 
seeing" which tlu^ little inyalid cried : " Cu") away, 
Duchess ; you hvive a mania tor using certain scents 
which always n\ake me teel sick." 

But he had other and better tViends, and ai\iong 
these was his ow n tootman, M. de l>ourset. Towards 

^4 



TIIK KIKST DAHIMIIN DIKS 

iIkmmkI (»I Ilis illiif';;;, t.li<; I);ui|)liin l>fj',]',''l tlii'i m;iii Lo 
fctcli liiiii .1 pair <)! scissors, althou^li \\(: knew that he 
was not a,ll<)W(*(l to havct thf.'iii. I'^or a, loiij', tiiiKt M. dc 
lioursct rediscd to^^rant his n;qur*st, but th(t Httlc invalid 
pl(;adod so [)it<*ousIy tliat tli»; faitliful servitor at last 
h;i(! lo yield ; wliercnjjon (lie i)aiij)hiii ciil olf one of 
his lonj^ lair curls, wrapped it in a piece ol pap(tr and 
}^ivin^' it to his footman, said: " Theic, JVlonsieur, 
that is the only tiling" I have to j'ive you ; hut when I 
am d(!ad tal<(t this token to my paj)a and mama, I 
hop(' that when tlx-.y I'ememher me they will not 
lorj^ct your services." 



85 



CHAPTER V 

The queen is persuaded to take an interest in politics — The first stroke 
of midnight — Versailles receives a visit from the populace — The 
queen prepares to go to the Tuileries — Her friends begin to leave 
her — " Balthasar's Feast " — Versailles is visited for the second time 
and the palace invaded — The royal family are escorted to Paris — 
The queen confides a delicate mission to her hairdresser. 

Mme Campan noticed that Marie Antoinette had 
practically taken no interest in State affairs until after 
the deaths of MM. de Maurepas and de Vergennes, 
and until M. de Calonne left France after helping to 
bring about the disaster which was to cost his royal 
master his life. But now a change seemed about 
to take place. Strange to say, Marie Antoinette, 
always so easily influenced, had not joined M. de 
Calonne's crowd of worshippers ; she thought him an 
intriguer and even warned her husband not to trust 
him ; however, other historians assert that he was a 
favourite with the queen, and that it was to please 
her that he consented to raise, in the space of two 
years, divers loans amounting to 650 million francs so 
that the Court might continue its downward course to 
perdition. Attacked by the Parliaments in 1785, he 
persuaded Louis xvi two years later to convoke the 
Assembly of Notables. In order to obtain still more 
money he proposed a land-tax, also a tax upon all 
business transactions. To obtain this new tax, he 

86 



QUEEN TAKES INTEREST IN POLITICS 

promised that the ancient corude ^ should be abolished, 
likewise the tax upon provisions entering provincial 
towns. He declared that this new scheme would 
free France from debt within twelve months. But 
the Assembly of Notables revolted against his decrees 
and, backed by Lafayette, ordered him to give an 
account of his transactions, whereupon the king was 
forced to dismiss him and send him into exile in 
Lorraine. 

The queen now often complained to Mme Campan 
that she had been drawn into politics against her will. 
One day, while her waiting-woman was helping her 
to fasten up the bundles of statements and memorials 
which she had been requested by certain statesmen 
to show to the king, she said : — 

" Ah ! there is no more peace for me now that 
they have made me into an intriguer!" 

On her waiting-woman expressing surprise at this 
assertion, the queen explained : — 

" Yes, I mean what I say : every woman who 
meddles with matters which she cannot understand 
and which do not concern her duties is nothing but 
an intriguer. Remember that I am not blind to my 
own faults, and that I deeply regret having to give 
myself this title. The queens of France can only 
hope to be happy by holding aloof from politics and 
by exercising just enough influence to further the 
good fortunes of their friends and a few zealous 
servitors." 

Mme Campan might have been tempted to 
remark that this was exactly the sort of influence 
a queen ought to refrain from exercising : were not 
* Corvie: statute-labour, 

87 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

her friends, the de PoHgnacs, among those who had 
helped the queen to squander so many of M, de 
Calonne's hardly obtained millions? 

The queen continued : — 

" Do you know what happened to me the other 
day ? I had been assisting at one of the king's secret 
audiences, and I was crossing the CEil de Bcettf vih&vi 
I heard one of the musicians belonging to the chapel 
say loud enough for me to distinguish every word : 
' A queen who does her duty remains in her private 
apartments making lace.' I said under my breath : 
' Unhappy man, you are right, but you do not know 
my position : I am forced to submit to my cruel fate.' " 

On hearing of the fall of the Bastille, Louis xvi 
expressed but little concern ; perhaps he was the only 
person in his kingdom who realized that the king of 
France had practically ceased to reign. When the 
due de La Rochefoucauld- Liancourt arrived from 
Paris with the news that the populace had taken 
matters into their own hands, the king, still only half 
awake, questioned the duke : "Is there a riot in 
Paris } " To which the messenger sadly replied : — 

" No, Sire, 'tis a Revolution ! " 

On the morrow the king, apparently awakened 
from his lethargy, consented to go with his brothers 
to the Assemblee and see for himself whether he had 
really lost all power. He was received with many 
marks of sympathy and respect, and returned to the 
palace escorted by a crowd of enthusiasts. The 
comte d'Artois, however, was not included in this 
outburst of popular enthusiasm. Mme Campan fre- 
quently heard people in the crowd cry out as he rode 
past her : — 

88 



VERSAILLES IS VISITED BY PARISIANS 

" Long live the king, notwithstanding you and 
your opinions, Monseigneur ! " 

The king's first act on returning to his palace was 
to send for his wife and son that they might show 
themselves to their devoted subjects, 

Mme Campan had returned to her own room in 
the palace when the door was burst open by the 
duchesse de Polignac, who, after telling her that the 
queen desired her to bring the Dauphin to her 
boudoir, began to grumble because she had been 
told not to show herself to the crowd as she was so 
unpopular. 

" Ah ! Mme Campan," sighed the aggrieved 
duchess, covering the astonished little Dauphin with 
tears and kisses, and seizing the hand of the queen's 
waiting- woman as if to detain her, "what a cruel blow 
I have received ! " 

Mme Campan cut this ridiculous scene short by 
taking the child to his mother, having done which 
she again descended into the courtyard and mingled 
with the crowd. 

'* People were vociferating and gesticulating on 
all sides," says she; "it was easy to judge from the 
different voices that many of the persons present were 
disguised. A woman with her face partly covered by 
a black lace veil seized me rather roughly by the arm, 
and calling me by my name said : * I know you well. 
Tell your queen not to meddle any longer with our 
government ; tell her to let her husband and our 
good states-general attend to our wants.' At the 
same instant a man dressed like a porter at the Paris 
markets, with his broad-brimmed hat pulled down 
over his face, seizing me by my other arm, exclaimed : 

89 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

* Yes, yes, tell her over and over again that these 
states-generals are not going to imitate the other 
states which never did the people any good, that the 
nation is too wideawake not to profit by the advan- 
tages won in 1789, and that deputies from the Tier's 
Etat will no longer deliver their discourses on bended 
knees ; tell her all that, do you hear ? ' 

** I was terrified. The queen appeared on the 
balcony at that moment. 

" ' Ah ! ' exclaimed the veiled woman, ' the duchess 
is not with her.' 

"'No,' replied the man, 'but she is still at Ver- 
sailles. She is like a mole ; she works underground, 
but we shall find a way to dig her out ! ' " 

Mme Campan was so shocked by what she heard 
that she hurried into the palace as quickly as her 
trembling legs could take her. She was crossing the 
terrace that same afternoon about four o'clock in order 
to pay^a visit to Madame Addaide, who was staying 
at the palace, when she noticed three men standing 
under the windows of the Throne- Room. 

" There is the throne," said one of them ; " before 
very long people will search in vain for a vestige of 
it." 

Mme Campan waited to hear no more. She 
found Madame Adelaide alone at her work, seated 
behind the canvas blind which was necessary to 
screen her from inquisitive visitors from Paris. Mme 
Campan told her what she had just heard, and 
begged her to take a peep at the three men, who were 
still standing where she had left them. Madame 
Adelaide immediately recognized one of the speakers 
as the marquis de Saint- Huruge, who, she said, had 

90 




Copyright by\ 



Madame Adelaide. 

From a painting by Nattiei'. 



[Braun &' Co. 



QUEEN LEAVING VERSAILLES 

a spite against society on account of his having been 
imprisoned for some time in the Bastille for a youthful 
offence, and who had sold himself to the due d'Orl^ans. 

Between the months of July and October of 1789 
the due d'Orl^ans made frequent visits to England ; 
his return to Paris was always marked by popular 
disturbances, fomented, Mme Campan declares, by 
Enoflish ofold. On two or three occasions she had 
planned a visit to the capital on business or for her 
own pleasure, and the queen had begged her to 
postpone the trip saying : — 

" Do not go up to Paris to-morrow ; the English 
have been scattering their gold about — we shall have 
trouble ! " 

With a view to calming the populace, the king 
determined to pay a visit to his good town of Paris — 
'twas but a brief one, however, for he was back at 
Versailles before midnight. Marie Antoinette now 
began to make her preparations for leaving Versailles, 
for she was beginning to understand that, sooner or 
later, the king would have to live in his capital. 
Mme Campan declares that the queen really wished 
to do so, and that on July 16 she emptied her jewel- 
cases and put all her diamonds in a casket, which she 
intended to carry on her lap. Mme Campan also 
helped her to burn a number of papers, one of which 
the queen handed to her telling her not to read it 
until she received commands to that effect. The 
queen then went into the king's study, where they 
conferred together for some time. On her return, 
Marie Antoinette informed her waiting-woman that 
the departure for Paris had been postponed, that the 
army would start without the king, and then she 

91 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

asked for the paper which she had just entrusted to 
Mme Campan and read it aloud. It contained in- 
structions for the journey up to Paris, and authorized 
Mme Campan to act as governess to la petite 
Madame. With tears in her eyes the queen tore up 
the paper adding : — 

'* When I wrote this, I hoped that it would be 
useful, but Fate has willed otherwise. I fear that 
things are going to turn out badly for all of us." 

However, there were many who were determined 
to put themselves out of reach of harm's way. 
Naturally those persons were some of the chief 
offenders : the due and the duchesse de Polignac ; 
their daughter, the duchesse de Guiche ; the duke's 
vile sister, the duchesse Diane ; the Abbes de 
Vermond and de Baliviere, the princes de Conde and 
de Conti, the comte d'Artois, the prince de Lambesc, 
the marechal de Broglie, and several others fled from 
France only three days after the fall of the Bastille ! 

To M. Campan the queen entrusted the arrange- 
ments for the departure of her friends the de 
Polignacs ; he had to provide them with funds — they 
were not likely to go away empty-handed, — viz. : a 
purse containing five hundred golden louis, dubbed 
a loan by the queen. On bidding farewell to her 
dear friend — whose pretext for leaving France was 
that she needed a cure — Marie Antoinette said that 
she knew exactly what a painful position the duchess 
was in, that she had often calculated the expenses 
which a person at Court had to face, and that, as 
neither the duke nor his wife had been able to put 
anything aside — the Parisians thought otherwise — she 
begged her to accept the loan. 

92 



ABB1& DE VERMOND LEAVES FRANCE 

By midnight everything was ready, and the queen's 
friend, disguised as a lady's-maid, took her place in 
the berlin with many injunctions to M. Campan to 
mention her name frequently to his royal mistress, 
so that she might not be forgotten. 

Mme de Tourzel was immediately given the post 
of governess to the Children of France vacated by the 
duchess ; the queen could not have made a better 
choice. 

When her friends had departed, the queen, unable 
to sleep, called her waiting-woman to sit beside her. 
During the course of the conversation, which lasted 
until three o'clock in the morning, Mme Campan was 
surprised to hear the queen express the opinion that, 
even supposing the present crisis came to naught, the 
Abb6 de Vermond was not likely to return to France 
for some time. After lamenting his departure, Marie 
Antoinette remarked to her waiting-woman that she, 
Mme Campan, had but little cause to regret his 
absence. The queen then explained that the Abbe 
did not dislike Mme Campan personally, but that his 
hatred of the Campan clan had dated from the early 
days of her marriage, when M. Campan /^r^ was made 
her librarian and secretary, two posts which brought 
the owner into all-too-frequent intercourse with the 
jealous Abbe. Marie Antoinette ended by begging 
Mme Campan to tell her what she really thought of 
the absent ecclesiastic, Mme Campan's astonishment 
was great : here was the queen, who hitherto had 
refused to hear anything against her spiritual guide, 
speaking of him as if he had already passed out of 
her life ; inviting, nay, almost commanding her to 
give expression to the indignation which had been 

93 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

rankling in her breast for so many years! No 
wonder the duchesse de Polignac had prayed M. 
Campan to keep her memory green at Court ! In 
order to make Mme Campan speak out, the queen 
informed her that the Abb^ for twelve years had 
been doing everything he could to get the Campan 
clan into disfavour, but that he had failed in his 
project, so she need not be afraid to say what she 
thought. Thus invited, Mme Campan endeavoured 
to draw the Abb6's portrait in its true colours, and 
concluded with the remark that, naturally talkative 
and indiscreet, he pretended to be brusque and 
eccentric in order to hide these failings, whereupon 
Marie Antoinette exclaimed : — 

" Ah ! how true that is ! " 

The next few months saw the eddies of the whirl- 
pool which had swallowed up the capital spread to the 
most remote corners of France. The king had done 
nothing to stop the inundation ; still comfortably 
ensconced in his magnificent abode at Versailles, he 
made no attempt to check the ridicule with which 
the Court endeavoured to choke the new-born 
Revolution. 

On October i a grand banquet was given in the 
royal theatre by the king's guards to the lately 
arrived Regiment de Flandre, summoned to Versailles 
at the king's behest, when the guests in the presence 
of the royal family refused to drink to the nation's 
health, but drank so frequently to the health and 
welfare of the king and queen that all prudence was 
cast to the wind and the tricolour cockade trodden 
under foot. Mme Campan and her little niece, the 
child of her sister Mme Augui^, were present at this 

94 



** BALTHASAR'S FEAST " 

banquet, called by M. Ernest Hamel " Balthasar's 
Feast," and heard the orchestra play O Richard, 
o mon roil aiXid PeiU-on affliger ce quon aiine?, airs 
considered suitable for the occasion. 

On returning to her own apartments, which she 
found full of visitors, Mme Campan, delighted, as 
a royalist, by what she had just seen, was met by one 
of her relatives, who was chaplain to the queen, with 
the news that he had just administered the Last 
Sacraments to a soldier belonging to the Regiment 
de Flandre who had shot himself and now lay dying 
in a corner of the Place d'Armes. During his con- 
fession the youth said that he had committed suicide 
in remorse for having allowed himself to be led away 
by the king's enemies. 

Mme Campan's enthusiasm for the scene which 
she had lately witnessed received another check when 
she noticed the grave face of one of her visitors, 
M. de Beaumetz, deputy for Arras. This gentleman 
listened to her highly coloured account of the banquet 
with an air of disdain. When she had finished, he 
said that the whole affair was terrible, that he was 
familiar with the Assemblies plans, that the incident 
would be productive of great misfortunes, and con- 
cluded with a request that he might be allowed to 
take leave of the company, as he wished — prudent 
man ! — to decide whether he had better emigrate or 
go over to the popular party. 

On the morrow, as if emboldened by this outburst, 
the queen's ladies-in-waiting offered another insult to 
the nation when they went about the streets of 
Versailles distributing white cockades to the inhabit- 
ants and visitors ; and on October 3 a second orgy, 

95 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

similar to that enacted on the ist, took place, when 
those nobles who had not already fled came by their 
presence to encourage the soldiers in their foolish 
behaviour. 

These orgies and the rumour that the king was 
about to be carried off to Metz by his friends, induced 
the nation to declare that the safest place for its king 
during such troublous times was in his good town of 
Paris. 

It happened that Mme Campan was not on duty 
at the palace on October 5, when the peaceful court- 
yard received its baptism of blood ; but her sister, 
Mme Auguie, was there with M. Campan pere, and, 
by her bravery on the terrible night of October 
5-6, won for herself the name of " my lioness " 
with which Marie Antoinette sought to reward her. 
Mme Augui^ and M. Campan remained with their 
royal mistress until two o'clock in the morning, when, 
M. de Lafayette having declared that the royal 
family could retire to rest, as he and his men would 
answer for their lives, Marie Antoinette took leave of 
her faithful servitors, begging M. Campan /^r^ to tell 
his daughter-in-law that all danger was over. 

In the following letter written to her brother, 
Edmond Charles Genest, who was then occupying 
a post in Russia, Mme Campan describes her 
sister's experiences on that horrible night : — 

"... My mind is still so agitated, my dreams 
so painful, and my sleep so interrupted, I know not 
whether I shall have the strength to trace the piteous 
scenes which I have lately witnessed. My sister was 
with the queen on the night of October 5-6 ; to 
her I owe some of the details which I am now going 

96 



THE QUEEN HAS A NARROW ESCAPE 

to relate. On hearing M. de Lafayette, as he left 
the king, inform the latter that he was going to lodge 
his troops as best he could, the inhabitants of the 
palace thought that they could retire to rest. The 
queen undressed and went to bed. My sister, having 
discharged her duties, withdrew to an adjoining 
room ; here she gave way to her grief, and bursting 
into tears said to her companions : ' How can we 
retire to rest when there are thirty thousand soldiers, 
ten thousand brigands, and forty-two cannons in the 
town ? ' — ' No, certainly not ! ' replied they, ' we will 
not be guilty of such weakness.' So they lay down 
still dressed on their beds. It was then four o'clock 
in the morning. Exactly at six o'clock a band of 
brigands overpowered the sentinels and rushed along 
the corridors in the direction of the queen's apartment. 
My sister was the first to hear these terrible words : 
' Save the queen ! ' The king's bodyguard who had 
uttered them received thirteen wounds outside the 
door while he was warning us. If the queen's women 
had undressed, nothing could have saved her ; they 
only had time to rush into her room, pull her out of 
bed, throw a quilt over her, carry her to the king's 
room, and shut the door leading to that room as best 
they could. She fell fainting into the arms of her 
august spouse. ..." 

M. Hamel tells us that the Parisians, after 
decapitating two of the king's bodyguard and 
carrying their heads upon pikes, allowed themselves 
to be pacified by another fleeting vision of their 
king and queen standing on that gilt balcony from 
which Louis xvi's ancestors had witnessed such 
different scenes. 

G 97 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

Marie Antoinette immediately after sent for Mme 
Campan as well as M. Campan/^r^, as she wished to 
give into the latter's charge two packets containing 
valuable papers and those jewels which she did not de- 
sire to take with her on that now inevitable journey. 

Mme Campan found her mistress alone in her 
boudoir ; she was just about to start for Paris. It 
was a most bitter moment for the daughter of Maria 
Theresa. She could scarcely speak ; her face was 
crimson ; tears were streaming down her cheeks. 
She kissed her waiting-woman, gave her hand to 
M. Campan pere, and said: "Come up to Paris 
immediately ; I will lodge you at the Tuileries. 
Come with me and do not leave me again ; at such 
times faithful servitors become useful friends. We 
are ruined ; perhaps we are being hurried along 
towards death, for when kings are cast into prison 
they are near the end." 

M. Campan and his daughter-in-law were scarcely 
less grieved than the queen. M. Campan, in especial, 
was so shocked that his health became seriously 
affected, and on the morrow of the queen's departure the 
illness which eventually killed him manifested itself. 

In the same letter, reproduced on a previous page, 
Mme Campan says : — 

"... The journey to Paris lasted seven hours 
and a half, throughout which we heard a continual 
rattle and roar of thirty thousand muskets being 
loaded with balls and discharged in honour of the 
king's return to Paris. Cries of: 'Aim straight!' 
were raised in vain ; notwithstanding that precaution, 
the balls sometimes hit the carriages. We were 
suffocated by the smell of gunpowder, and the crowd 

98 



THE JOURNEY UP TO PARIS 

was so dense that many were forced against the 
carriages until the vehicles rocked up and down as if 
at sea. If you would form an idea of this procession, 
picture to yourself a multitude of naked brigands 
armed with swords, pistols, saws, old halberds, 
marching without any order, crying, screaming, 
preceded by a monster, a tiger whom the Paris 
municipality had long been searching for, a man with 
a long beard who hitherto had acted as an artist's 
model, and who, since the beginning of the disturb- 
ances, has abandoned himself to his passion for 
murder, and who with his own hand had cut off the 
heads of the unhappy victims of popular fury. 
When one remembers that these were the same 
people who, at six o'clock that morning, had over- 
powered the sentinels at the foot of the marble staircase, 
hacked open the doors of the ante-rooms, and pene- 
trated to the very spot where the brave soldier stood 
out long enough to give his queen time to escape, 
when one remembers that this terrible band ran up 
and down the streets of Versailles the whole night 
long, we are forced to realize that we owed our lives 
to Providence. The knowledge that the danger is 
past gives one courage to face the future. People 
now realize that the horrible events of which I have 
just drawn you such a poor picture were the result of 
the blackest, most fearful conspiracies. The city of 
Paris is about to search for the authors ; but I doubt 
whether they will all be discovered, and I fancy that 
posterity alone will know the truth about these 
horrible mysteries. 

"The severity of martial law, the prodigious 
activity of the chiefs of the army, and of the town 

99 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

municipality, the affection, the veneration of the 
inhabitants of the capital for the members of the 
august family who have now come to shut themselves 
up within their walls, and who are quite determined 
to remain there until the new Constitution has been 
concluded — these are our only consolations. 

" The queen's Court has been well attended since 
her return to Paris. She and the king dine in public 
thrice a week ; cards are played on those days. 
Althouo-h the rooms are small, all Paris flocks thither. 
She converses with the commanders of the different 
districts ; she finds suitable occasions on which to say 
polite things even to the humble fusileers, among 
whom, however, are citizens of aristocratic birth as 
well as the poorest artisans : gendeness, resignation, 
courage, charm, popularity — she leaves nothing un- 
done in order to pacify the different parties and 
re-establish order ; everybody does justice to her 
touching anxiety to please, which compensates for the 
cruel trials endured, for the horrible risks encountered. 
In general, nothing could be wiser or more popular 
than the conduct of the king and queen ; their 
partisans daily increase in number. Nearly all 
classes speak with enthusiasm of it. I myself have 
lost much, but I am extremely flattered to think that 
I am attached to the person of a princess who in 
adversity has developed such a magnanimous and 
o-enerous disposition ; she is an angel of gendeness 
and kindness ; she is wonderfully courageous. I 
hope that the clouds caused by the impure breath 
of calumny will dissolve ; and when one is as young 
as the queen, one can still hope to regain in history 
and in the eyes of posterity that high place which 

lOO 



THE END OF A DYNASTY 

nobody can deny her without being guilty of injustice. 
Princes assailed by vices and weaknesses in their old 
age have often shown fleeting signs of virtue in their 
youth ; but their last years efface the memory of their 
early days, and they carry down to the grave the 
hatred and scorn of their subjects. How many 
happy years our amiable sovereign still has to live ! 
She is sure to win applause when she obeys her own 
conscience. She has just given a proof of this at a 
most critical moment ; and Paris imbued with the 
most seditious opinions, Paris which is constantly 
reading the most disgusting libels, cannot refuse 
the admiration due to courage, to presence of mind, 
and to natural charm. Her worst enemies can only 
say : * We must confess that she possesses presence 
of mind.' I cannot tell you how anxious I am to 
know what the foreign Courts think of this interesting 
princess. Have those fearful libels reached you yet ? 
Do people in Russia believe that Mme Lamotte was 
ever the queen's friend ? Do people believe all the 
odious tales concerning that infernal conspiracy ? I 
hope not. I am for ever thinking of the justice and 
reparation due to that princess. I should go crazy if 
I were a little younger, and if my head were as 
sensitive as my heart. I have known her for fifteen 
years devoted to her august spouse, to her children, 
kind to her servitors, unfortunately too polite, too 
simple, too familiar with her courtiers. I cannot bear 
to hear her character taken away. I wish I had 
a hundred tongues, I wish I had wings, I wish I could 
convince those who are all too prone to believe lies ; 
let us wait a little. ..." 

Mme Campan in the above letter mentions that 

lOI 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

the queen was too familiar with her courtiers — and 
with her hairdresser too, as we have already seen. 
Leonard prides himself in his memoirs upon the fact 
that he was chosen by his royal mistress, after her 
arrival in Paris, to return to Versailles and fetch some 
important papers which she had left behind her. On 
this occasion he acted with great discretion. He 
describes the palace of Versailles after the departure 
of the Parisians thus : — 

" I beheld Louis xvi, his spouse, his sister, his 
children, torn from that palace, the birthplace of 
twenty members of his family, and led practically 
prisoners to Paris, escorted by eighty thousand 
drunken, ragged pretorians. I beheld that Court, but 
lately so magnificent, take up its abode in the Tuileries, 
where the first necessaries of life were still lacking. 
I saw the most sensitive princess in the world, her 
eyes inflamed and filled with tears, seated beside a 
smoky fireplace in which no fire had been lighted for 
sixty-six years. I watched her waiting-women nail 
curtains over the doors of her apartment — they fre- 
quently hit their own fingers during the operation — so 
as to keep out the draughts which penetrated through 
the warped wood. With my heart filled with pity for 
the sovereigns of the most splendid kingdom in the 
world, I returned to Versailles in order to fetch a 
number of articles which the queen required. 

" On reaching the palace I found it deserted except 
for a few servants too old to hurry away, and perhaps 
loath to leave the palace where they had been born, 
and where they had hoped to die. . . . Silence reigned 
supreme ; everywhere I saw traces of sudden flight, 
articles forgotten or overlooked. I gathered together 

I02 



A DELICATE MISSION 

in the queen's apartments many valuable objects : 
portraits, documents the contents of which I will 
never divulge. I had orders to look everywhere, 
take anything, read everything, because her Majesty 
was well aware that Leonard knew how to forget 
when necessary. . . . Nothing had been touched in 
Marie Antoinette's room since her flight : the robe 
which her Majesty wore on the night of October 6,^ 
the fichu under which her breast had beat so violently 
on the approach of the Parisian gang, the silk stockings 
half turned inside out just as she had taken them off 
on retiring to rest ; and under Marie Antoinette's bed 
I found the slippers which Maria Theresa's daughter 
had not had time to put on, for the unfortunate 
princess had only just escaped the assassins' daggers. 
... I saw the gilded panels of the door all broken, 
and the parquet covered with splinters. The wind 
was whistling through the huge gap made by the 
brigands in order to effect an entrance. They had 
smashed the mirrors with the butt-ends of their 
muskets, doubtless in order to punish the innocent 
crystal for having reflected the features of the woman 
they could not murder. . . . They had glutted their 
fury on her Majesty's bed ; furious at finding it still 
warm, they had riddled mattress, curtains, sheets, and 
quilt with the bullets intended for that princess's fair 
breast. 

" Before getting into the carriage which was to 
take me back to Paris I paused, sad and pensive, in 
the middle of that vast courtyard through which, 
during one hundred and twenty-five years, long pro- 
cessions of nobles, ambitious, greedy courtiers, but 
^ The date should be October $-6. 
103 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

seldom moved, alas ! by generous sentiments, had 
passed and repassed on the way to their habitat, the 
Court. 

"The huge deserted place was no longer filled 
with soldiers ; the sentry-boxes were empty, the gates 
open to all comers. . . . And farther on, that imposing 
mass of pavilions and galleries, that colossus of stone 
erected by the magnificent Louis xiv at such enormous 
expense, ' that Versailles built of louis d'or' as Saint- 
Simon termed it, was now nothing but a silent, 
melancholy desert. I knew that the queen was 
anxiously awaiting my return, and I regretted having 
prolonged the suspense in which her Majesty was 
plunged. ... I made up for this delay by ordering 
the coachman to drive as quickly as possible. We 
did the drive between the palace of Versailles and 
the Tuileries in less than an hour. 

" I found Marie Antoinette striding up and down 
her room ; she was waiting for me. She wished to be 
alone to receive me. Mme la princesse de Lamballe 
and Mme Campan, both offended, I fancy, at being 
kept out of a secret which had been imparted to the 
hairdresser Leonard, were in a little salon adjoining. 
. . . They pretended not to see me when I passed 
through the room. These ladies were doubtless un- 
aware that there are secrets in a woman's life which she 
would rather confide to a hundred men than to one 
member of her own sex. Do not let my readers think 
that it was a case of susceptibility — oh ! no, the secrets 
which women confide to one another usually concern 
wounded vanity. . , . The sex is so fashioned that 
you will far more often see a woman blush for a slight 
endured than for her own faults. 

104 



HAIRDRESSER TURNED PHILOSOPHER 

'•'Ah! there you are at last,' cried the queen, 
hurrying up to me as soon as she saw me enter the 
room. ' And have you got everything ? ' 

" ' Everything I could find, Madame.' 

•' * Let me see, let me see ! ' 

*' I showed her Majesty what I had found in her 
apartments. She did not attempt to conceal her 
agitation while examining the different articles ; then 
suddenly I beheld her face resume its expression of 
sweet serenity while she said to me with a smile : 

" 'Good, good, Leonard, they are all here.' 

" ' How glad I am, Madame, to have been chosen 
by Fate to fulfil your wishes ! ' 

" ' It has always been your custom to do more 
than I required of you. Here are some jewels which 
I never expected to see again after the invasion of 
those brigands.' ..." 

Leonard concludes the anecdote with the following 
remark : — 

" Marie Antoinette was not a good judge of 
character. I myself was not at all surprised to find 
that the men who had forced their way into her room 
had not stolen her diamonds. . . . Two great passions 
seldom dwell together in the human heart. The 
assassins of October 6 obeyed their thirst for 
vengeance ; now, of all our passions, vengeance is the 
least likely to be influenced by other motives, and 
cupidity is seldom found in company with it. . . . 
The spirit of revenge is too occupied with its object 
not to be disinterested," 



105 



CHAPTER VI 

The royal family at the Tuileries— The Favras affair— The comte 
d'lnisdal endeavours to save the king — Rumours are circulated that 
the queen is about to be poisoned — A demonstration of affection — 
Mme Campan acts as the king's secretary — The insurrection at 
Nancy— The queen's disUke for M. de Lafayette— Mme Campan is 
asked to make a sacrifice — Mesdames leave France. 

While many looked upon the arrival of the royal 
family in the capital as the dawn of another Golden 
Age, those who were calm enough or courageous 
enough to reflect upon the events of the last few 
months knew that it was the beginning of the end, 

" It is finished ! " Camille Desmoulins announced 
in one of his witty numbers. 

The habits of the royal family in their new abode 
had undergone a radical change. The king, unable to 
indulge his passion for hunting, amused himself making 
locks and keys. Marie Antoinette passed her time 
receiving visitors, including her old friends from the 
markets. These ladies came in perspiring crowds, 
smelling strongly of peppermint, carrying huge 
bouquets and bundles of speeches with which they 
alternately fanned themselves or flourished in each 
others' faces, obstinately refusing to be bowed out 
until they had read every word, down to the very last 
name with a clumsily made cross beside it. 

Numerous plans were made to save the king and 
his family, and were promptly discovered. The most 

1 06 



QUEEN'S LACK OF MORAL COURAGE 

energetic leader of one of these plots, which was said 
not only to aim at abducting the king but also at 
assassinating Lafayette, Necker, and Bailly, was 
Thomas Mahi, marquis de Favras, a lieutenant in 
the bodyguard of Monsieur, the comte de Provence, 
in whose hands he was merely a tool. M. de Favras, 
throughout his imprisonment and trial, when he might 
have saved his own life by denouncing Monsieur, 
showed himself, like many another royalist, to be a far 
braver man than his master. Condemned to death, 
February i8, 1790, he was executed on the Place de 
Greve on the following evening. 

Marie Antoinette, according to Mme Campan, was 
too alarmed for her own safety to waste much pity 
upon this victim of loyalty. 

"The queen," writes she, ** did not conceal from 
me the fact that she dreaded what Favras might say 
during his last moments. On the Sunday following 
the marquis' execution, M. de Villeurnoy came to tell 
me that he was going to bring the widow Favras and 
her son, clad in mourning garments for the brave 
Frenchman who had been sacrificed for his king, to 
be presented to the royal family while they were at 
dinner, when all the royalists expected to see the queen 
shower benefits upon the unhappy man's family. I did 
what I could to prevent the meeting. I foresaw what 
an effect it would have upon the queen's sensitive 
heart, and the painful feeling of constraint she would 
experience, knowing that the horrible Santerre, com- 
mander of the battalion of the Parisian Guard, was 
standing behind her chair throughout the repast. I 
could not make M. de Villeurnoy view the matter in 
the same light as myself; the queen was already at 

107 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Mass, surrounded by all the court, and I could not even 
warn her. 

"When the dinner was over I heard somebody 
knock at the door of my room, which communicated 
with a passage leading to the queen's private apart- 
ments. It was she herself. She asked if I had any- 
body with me. I was alone. She flung herself into 
an arm-chair and told me that she had come to weep 
with me over the foolish behaviour of certain fool- 
hardy royalists. 

" ' No one can hope for salvation,' cried she, ' when 
attacked by people who are as clever as they are 
wicked, and defended by people who are doubtless 
very estimable but have no idea of our real position. 
They have compromised me with both parties by 
introducing Favras' widow and son. Had I been free 
to do as I wished, it would have been my duty to take 
the child of the man who had just given his life for us 
and place him between the king and myself; but 
knowing that I was surrounded by the executioners 
who had but lately beheaded his father, I did not 
even dare to glance at him. The royalists blame me 
for not having taken any notice of the poor child ; 
the revolutionists will be furious to think that certain 
persons hoped to win favour by introducing him.' 

" The queen then added that she knew Mme de 
Favras was in poor circumstances, and she commanded 
me to send her on the morrow, by some trustworthy 
person, a few rolls of ^vQ-louis pieces, with the assur- 
ance that she would always take care of her and her 
son." 

For a long time Louis xvi resisted his partisans' 
desire to get him out of France. In the month of 

1 08 



PLANS FOR FLIGHT 

March Mme Campan had an opportunity to learn his 
real wishes concerning flight. 

" One evening towards ten o'clock," says she, 
** M. le comte d'Inisdal, deputy for the nobility, came 
to beg me to give him a private interview, as he had 
something very important to tell me. He informed 
me that the king was to be abducted that very night, 
that the section of the National Guard commanded that 
day by M. Alexandre dAumont (brother to Jacques 
d' Aumont de Villequier, who had adopted revolutionary 
opinions) had been won over, and that relays of horses 
provided by faithful royalists were waiting at con- 
venient places along the route ; that he had just left 
a group of nobles met together to carry the matter 
through ; that he had been sent to me that I, through 
the queen, might obtain the king's consent before 
midnight ;. that, although the king knew about their 
plan, his Majesty had hitherto refused to discuss the 
matter, but that now, at the moment of action, it was 
necessary for him to give his consent to the enter- 
prise. I remember that I greatly displeased the 
comte d'Inisdal by expressing my astonishment that 
the nobility should send for me, the queen's waiting- 
woman, just as they were about to execute this 
important scheme, in order to obtain the consent 
which should have formed the starting-point of any 
well-laid plot. I told him that it was impossible for 
me to go to the queen just then without my presence 
being remarked, that the king was playing cards with 
his family, and that I never appeared unless I was 
summoned. I added, however, that M. Campan was 
free to go down, and that if M. d'Inisdal would confide 
in him, he could count upon his discretion. My father- 

109 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

in-law, to whom the comte d'Inisdal repeated all 
he had just said to me, undertook the mission and 
went to the queen's apartments. The king was play- 
ing whisk ^ with the queen, Monsieur, and Madame ; 
Madame Elisabeth was leaning on a voyeuse ^ near the 
card-table. 

" M. Campan repeated M. d'Inisdal's message to 
the queen. Nobody uttered a word. The queen then 
began to speak, and said to the king : 

'* ' Monsieur, did you hear what Campan has just 
told us ? ' 

***Yes, I heard,' replied the king, continuing to 
play. 

^^ Monsieur, who was in the habit of making 
amusing quotations, said to my father-in-law : 

" * M. Campan, repeat, I pray, that pretty tune ! ' 
and then requested the king to reply. 

" At last the queen said : 

" 'You must say something to Campan.' 

" The king then addressed the following words to 
my father-in-law : 

" * Tell M. d'Inisdal that I cannot consent to being 
abducted. 

" The queen enjoined upon M. Campan to repeat 
this reply word for word. 

'* * You hear,' added she, ' the king cannot consent 
to being abducted.' 

" M. le comte d'Inisdal was very annoyed with 
the king's reply, and left saying : 

" * I see he wants to throw all the blame upon his 
devoted servants.' 

"He went off. I thought that the project had 
^ Whisk : a corruption of whist. * Voyeuse : a high-backed chair. 

IIO 



THE DANGER INCREASES 

been abandoned. The queen remained alone with 
me till midnight preparing her cash-box ; she com- 
manded me not to go to bed. She imagined that 
the king's reply would be interpreted either as a tacit 
consent, or as a refusal to participate in the enterprise. 
I do not know what passed in the king's chamber 
during the night, but I looked at his windows from 
time to time. Nobody kept watch in the garden. 
I could hear no sound in the palace, and the break of 
dawn convinced me that the project had been 
abandoned. 

** ' We shall have to flee, however,' said the queen 
to me some time afterwards ; * nobody knows to what 
lengths the factionists will go. The danger increases 
from day to day.' ..." 

In the month of May 1790, among the many 
important questions discussed at the various clubs, 
was one of the keenest interest to the new-born party. 
Alexandre de Lameth at the AssembUe nationale 
voiced that question thus : — 

" Ought a powerful nation to allow the king to 
make peace or war ? " 

The Empress Catherine had no doubts upon the 
matter when she wrote about this time to Marie 
Antoinette : ** Kings must go on their way without 
allowing themselves to be troubled by the cries of the 
people, as the moon follows her course heedless of the 
barking of dogs." 

Mme Campan accompanied her mistress when, in 
the following month, the royal family went to Saint- 
Cloud. 

Plans for escape became more numerous. Now 
was the time for the king to flee if he ever meant to 

III 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

do so, for the royal family were allowed to take long 
drives in the country, and night frequently fell before 
they returned to the palace. On one occasion they 
were so late coming home that Mme Campan really 
thought that they had managed to get rid of the escort 
which always accompanied them, and that she should 
see her mistress no more. 

"I thought they had gone," she says, "and I 
scarcely dared breathe, so great was my anxiety, 
when I suddenly heard the carriages returning. I 
confessed to the queen that I thought she had fled. 
She told me that they must wait until Mesdames had 
left France, and then see if their plans agreed with 
those of their friends abroad." 

Both parties imagined that plots were everywhere ; 
whereas the revolutionists were constantly on the 
watch for attempts to save the king, the royal family 
believed that people were trying to poison them. 
One of the king's partisans having, as he imagined, 
discovered a plot to poison Marie Antoinette, he 
begged her to take every precaution in eating and 
drinking. 

" The queen mentioned this plot to me without 
betraying the slightest emotion," wrote Mme Campan, 
" as well as to her physician-in-chief, M. Vicq d'Azyr. 
He and I concerted together concerning what pre- 
cautions we ought to take. He had entire confi- 
dence in the queen's abstemiousness ; nevertheless 
he recommended me always to have at hand a little 
bottle of oil of sweet almonds, this oil, as is well known, 
being one of the most efficacious counter-poisons 
for lesions caused by corrosives, which I was to renew 
from time to time. The queen had one habit which 

112 



MME CAMPAN TAKES PRECAUTIONS 

made M. Vicq d'Azyr particularly anxious : a bowl of 
powdered sugar was always kept on a chest of drawers 
in her Majesty's room ; and often, when she was 
thirsty, she would mix herself a glass of sugar and 
water without troubling to summon any of her ladies. 
It was arranged that I was to grate a large quantity 
of sugar in my own room, that I was always to keep 
some little packets of it in my reticule, and that three 
or four times a day, whenever I found myself alone 
in her Majesty's room, I was to empty the bowl and 
put in fresh sugar. We knew that the queen, for 
some unknown reason, disliked all precautions. One 
day she caught me making the above-mentioned 
change ; she told me that she presumed that I and 
M. Vicq d'Azyr had arranged the matter between us, 
but that I was giving myself a great deal of trouble 
for nothing. 'Remember,' added she, 'that nobody 
will waste a single grain of poison on me. There are 
no Brinvilliers ^ alive to-day ; calumny kills much more 
quickly, and they will use calumny to kill me.' ..." 

However the queen still had many friends. 
During this same visit to Saint-Cloud, Mme Campan 
witnessed a touching scene, so touching, indeed, that 
twenty years later the tears still came into her eyes 
when she thought of it. 

"It was four o'clock in the afternoon," says she, 
" the guard was off duty ; there was hardly anybody 
that day at Saint-Cloud, and I was reading to the 
queen, who was seated at her embroidery frame in a 
room with a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The 
windows were closed, which did not prevent us, how- 

1 The Marquise de Brinvilliers, the celebrated poisoner, who was first 
tortured and then executed in Paris in 1676. 

H 113 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

ever, hearing a noise like the sound of many voices 
whispering. The queen told me to go and see what 
was happening. I lifted the muslin curtain and beheld 
more than fifty persons standing beneath the balcony ; 
they included young and old women, cleanly and 
neatly dressed in the costume of the country, besides 
elderly knights of the order of Saint Louis, young 
knights of Malta, and a few ecclesiastics. I told the 
queen that they were probably members of some 
neighbouring families who wanted to see her. She 
arose, opened the window and appeared upon the 
balcony ; whereupon these good people said to her in 
a low tone : — 

" ' Be brave, Madame, all good French people 
suffer for, and with you. They pray for you ; Heaven 
will hear their prayers. We love you, we repeat, and 
we revere our virtuous king.' 

"The queen burst into tears and held her hand- 
kerchief to her face. 

'* ' Poor queen ! she is crying ! * said the women 
and girls. But the fear of compromising her Majesty 
and the persons who loved her so, prompted me to 
take her hand and sign to her that I wanted her to 
return to her room. I then informed these estimable 
people that my conduct was dictated by prudence. 
They evidently agreed with me, for I heard them say : 
' That lady is right ! ' and then : * Adieu, Madame ! ' 
uttered in tones of such grief and sincerity that even 
now, twenty years after this event, my heart still 
aches at the thought of it." 

During the month of September 1790, the king 
gave Mme Campan a signal proof of his confidence 
when he employed her as his secretary on the 

114 



THE INSURRECTION AT NANCY 

occasion of the insurrection at Nancy. The former 
residence of Stanislas, king of Poland, then had as 
military governor, M. de Noue, a royalist by birth 
and education. Now three of the regiments quartered 
at Nancy, viz. the cavalry regiment of Mestre de 
Camp and the two infantry regiments of Chateau- 
Vieux and du Roi, were noted for their "patriotism," 
that is to say, for their enthusiam for the new opinions, 
which opinions exposed the unfortunate men to all 
sorts of vexations and humiliations ; when they dared 
to complain, they were called " brigands " and 
" traitors," and two of the leaders were flogged. 
While M. de Noue was writing to the AssembUe 
complaining of the indiscipline of the troops, the 
soldiers sent eight of their number up to Paris to lay 
the real facts of the case before the government. The 
little deputation found on its arrival, however, that a 
decree had just been passed by which all soldiers 
convicted of insubordination and not confessing their 
error within twenty-four hours, were to be treated as 
guilty of high treason against the nation. The 
deputation, by Lafayette's orders, was immediately 
thrown into prison. The patriots of Nancy, indignant 
at this unjust treatment of their ambassadors, sent 
another deputation composed of members of the 
National Guard of their town ; these men were more 
lucky, for this time they were allowed, notwithstand- 
ing Lafayette's protests, to explain their grievances, 
whereupon two members of the AssembUe, thanks to 
the intervention of Barnave and Robespierre, were 
sent to Nancy in order to examine the assertions of 
both parties. Unfortuately the soldiers in the former 
refuge of Stanislas, king of Poland, without waiting 

115 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

to hear what success their second deputation had 
obtained, took the reins into their own hands on the 
very day this decree was passed (August 31, 1790), 
and, supported by the populace, rebelled, and threw 
into prison de Noue and Malseigne, the latter a brutal 
officer sent by the AssembUe to keep peace in the 
town. On learning of this insurrection, the marquis 
de Bouille decided to march upon Nancy and quell 
the rebellion. Arrived outside the gates of the town, 
he demanded the liberation of de Noue and Malseigne 
and the departure of the three guilty regiments, four 
members of each regiment to suffer whatever punish- 
ment the government should decree. The revolu- 
tionists had already released the unpopular governor, 
and were discussing among themselves who were to 
be the scapegoats when de Bouille tried to force his 
way through the Porte Stanislas. The soldiers, 
indignant at this treatment, resisted the invader for 
some time ; however de Bouille's numerous army 
soon put an end to the siege and burst into the town ; 
that night the streets of Nancy ran red with blood, 
3000 persons, including 400 women, paid for the 
rebellion with their lives. The Assemblie, on learning 
of de Bouille's energetic repression, passed a vote of 
thanks notwithstanding Robespierre's protests. As a 
further punishment, thirty-two soldiers of the regiment 
of Chateau-Vieux were shot and forty-two sent to the 
galleys for thirty years. This sentence, however, was 
annulled by subsequent events. Before many months 
had passed, an amnesty was proclaimed in favour of 
some of the condemned ; Collot d'Herbois' eloquence 
in December 1791 released the remainder. The 
month of April 1792 saw the insurrectionists of Nancy 

116 



THE INSURRECTION AT NANCY 

transformed into popular heroes. On the 9th of that 
month the Fete dassassins, as the royaHst Dupont 
de Nemours termed it, took place. The soldiers 
of Chateau- Vieux were led in triumph by Collot 
d'Herbois to the Assemblee legislative and publicly 
complimented on their behaviour, and on the 15th 
a magnificent banquet was given to the patriots, when 
Marie Joseph Chenier's Hymne a la Libert^ was 
sung. 

Mme Campan seems to think that there was some 
mystery about this insurrection. " There was another 
cause," says she, " which I might have discovered if 
the state of anxiety in which I found myself at that 
time had not deprived me of my understanding. 
I will endeavour to explain what I mean. One day 
in the beginning of September the queen, on retiring 
to rest, commanded me to dismiss her ladies and to 
remain with her ; when we were alone, she said 
to me : — 

" * The king will be here at midnight. You know 
that he has always trusted you ; he shows his confi- 
dence in you by choosing you to write at his dictation 
an account of the affair at Nancy. He wants several 
copies.' 

" The king entered the queen's room at midnight 
and said to me with a smile : — 

" ' You did not expect to act as my secretary, and 
certainly not at night-time.' 

** I followed the king ; he took me into the Salle 
du Conseil ; here I found a quire of paper, an inkstand 
and some pens all ready prepared. He sat down 
beside me and dictated to me the marquis de Bouill^'s 
report, at the same time making a copy with his own 

117 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

hand. My hand trembled, I could scarcely write ; so 
many thoughts surged through my brain, that I could 
scarcely listen to the king. The big table, the velvet 
carpet, the chairs which were only used by the 
sovereign's councillors, the knowledge of what this 
place had been, what it was then when the king was 
employing a woman for a service which lay so entirely 
out of the usual sphere of her duties ; the misfortunes 
which had forced him to have recourse to her services ; 
the evils which my affection and my anxiety for my 
sovereign caused me to foresee, — all these thoughts 
made such an impression upon me that, on returning 
to the queen's apartments, I could neither close my 
eyes for the rest of the night, nor remember a word of 
what I had just written." 

Many people, seeing how confidentially Mme 
Campan was treated, endeavoured to make use of 
her for their own ends. Her salon was besieged by 
politicians. One evening in the month of November 
she found on her return from the Tuileries no less an 
important personage than the prince de Poix waiting 
to see her. 

"He told me," says she, "that he had come to 
beg me to help him regain his peace of mind ; that 
in the early days of the Assemble nationale he had 
allowed himself to be led astray by the hope of seeing 
certain matters mended ; that he now blushed for his 
folly and detested those schemes which had already 
had such fatal results ; that he was now going to 
break off for ever with these innovators ; that he had 
just handed in his resignation as deputy to the 
AssembUe nationale, and that he wished the queen to 
be informed of his conduct before she retired to rest. 

Ii8 



MARIE'S DISLIKE OF LAFAYETTE 

I accepted his commission and fulfilled it to the best 
of my ability, but without success. The prince de 
Poix continued to remain at Court, where he had to 
endure much unpleasantness ; however, he served the 
king on many subsequent and perilous occasions with 
all the zeal for which his family had always been dis- 
tinguished," 

Mme Campan shared Marie Antoinette's dislike 
of Lafayette. On one occasion a member of the 
queen's household called him a "rebel" and a 
"brigand," and expressed a hope that her mistress 
would not trust him. Mme Campan says : — 

" The queen remarked that he certainly deserved 
the first appellation, but that history usually gave the 
title of leader to any man commanding forty thousand 
troops who was practically master of the capital ; that 
kings had often found it expedient to treat with such 
leaders ; and that if it pleased our queen to do so, we 
could only keep silent and respect her wishes. On the 
morrow the queen, in a sad but extremely kind tone, 
asked me what I had said on the previous evening 
concerning M. de Lafayette, adding that she had been 
assured that I had imposed silence upon her ladies 
with whom he was not popular, and that I had taken 
his part. I repeated to the queen word for word all 
that had passed between us. She was so gracious as 
to say that I had been perfectly right. ..." 

Mme Campan's desire to serve her mistress forced 
her to be very particular whom she received in her 
own house. Nevertheless her "enemies," as she 
calls them, informed the queen in the autumn of 1 790 
that her waiting-woman was on intimate terms with 
M. de Beaumetz, reported to be a noted supporter of 

119 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the new opinions. Now as it happened, Mme Campan 
had intimated to that politician, after Balthasar's Feast, 
that he had better discontinue his visits to her ; so she 
was much surprised one day on receiving the following 
note from the queen who was then at Saint-Cloud : — 

" Come to Saint-Cloud immediately ; I have some- 
thing to tell you which concerns you." 

On entering the queen's boudoir, Marie Antoinette 
told Mme Campan that she was about to ask her to 
make a sacrifice for her sake ; the waiting-woman 
immediately replied that her mistress need only speak 
and her wishes should be obeyed. Marie Antoinette 
then begged her to give up her friendship with M. 
de Beaumetz ; she said that she knew it would be a 
painful sacrifice, but it was necessary not only for her 
own sake but for her waiting- woman's sake ; for 
although she might on occasion turn the services of 
Mme Campan's witty friend to good account, she, as 
queen, was obliged to consider her waiting-woman's 
reputation. When Mme Campan inquired the name 
of the busy-body who had mentioned M. de Beaumetz 
to her queen, the latter told her that on the previous 
evening her ladies had informed her that M. de 
Beaumetz passed all his spare time in Mme Campan's 
salon. Stifling her indignation, Mme Campan replied 
with a sarcastic smile that the sacrifice which her 
Majesty demanded was unnecessary ; that the gentle- 
man in question was scarcely like to make himself 
unpopular with his new friends by frequenting the 
receptions of the queen's chief waiting-woman ; and 
that he, at her request, had not set foot in her drawing- 
room since October 1789. She added that since that 
date she had only had passing glimpses of him at the 

120 



AN ILL-CHOSEN GIFT 

theatre or in the public parks, when he had purposely 
avoided her, thus showing that he wished to forget 
his old friends — for which she confessed she was 
thankful. Whereupon the queen interrupted genuinely 
with : — 

" How right you are ! how perfectly right ! Your 
enemies were mistaken in thus trying to injure you 
in my opinion ; but be most careful of what you say 
or do. You see how the king and I trust you. You 
have powerful enemies." 

During the winter of 1790-91, notwithstanding 
the ever-present dread of the future which stalked 
like a ghost through the palace of the Tuileries, the 
Court was fairly gay, and the queen attended many 
of the receptions given by the princesse de Lamballe. 
It was on the occasion of one of these receptions that 
an English milord, while seated at the card-table from 
which the Revolution had hitherto been unable to drive 
Marie Antoinette, displayed with remarkable lack of 
tact and much ostentation a huge ring adorned with a 
medallion in which was a lock of Oliver Cromwell's hair. 

On New Year's Day the conquerors of the Bastille, 
with an equal lack of tact and even more ostentation, 
presented the little Dauphin ^ with a set of dominoes 
fashioned from the stones of the Bastille, and enclosed 
in a box bearing the following inscription : — 

"The stones from those walls within which 
so many innocent victims of arbitrary power were 
imprisoned, have been transformed into this toy 
which we now present to you, Monseigneur, as 
a proof of your people's love dind power ." 

^ Born March 27, 1785, became Dauphin on the death of his elder 
brother. 

121 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

This uncommon plaything Marie Antoinette gave 
to Mme Campan, telling her to keep it safely as it 
would be a valuable souvenir of the Revolution some 
day. 

Early in January 1791 a rumour was circulated 
that Mesdames, the king's aunts, were plotting to 
smuggle the Dauphin out of France ; it was said that 
the child was to be hidden in a secret compartment 
in the ladies' carriage, and another child of the same 
size as the Dauphin was to take his place at the 
Tuileries — a strange anticipation of the rumours which 
later hovered around the poor child's death ; two 
thousand gentleman had been chosen to escort the 
fugitives to the frontier. This rumour had doubtless 
been started by somebody who had heard Mesdames 
express a wish to visit Rome. The Asse^nbUe was 
informed of what people were saying, whereupon it 
tried to force the king to order his aunts to remain 
quietly in France. But Louis xvi still had some 
courage left ; he replied :-— 

"Your request is unconstitutional; show me a 
decree from the Assemble forbidding people to travel 
and I will forbid my aunts to go ; until you can do 
that, they are as free to leave the kingdom as any 
other citizens." 

Marie Antoinette's friends from the markets now 
paid a visit to Bellevue. On that terrible October 6, 
Mesdames had accompanied the king as far as Sevres, 
where they had contrived to slip away from his escort 
and return to their own abode, which was soon after 
visited by some Parisians and the windows smashed. 
So Mesdames, having been warned of the projected 
visit of the Dames de la Halle, wisely went up to 

122 



MESDAMES LEAVE FRANCE 

Paris and spent the night at the Tuileries. This 
incident probably made Mesdames desire to leave 
France without further delay. The date of their 
departure was fixed for February i8. 

Although Mme Campan was no longer in the 
service of Mesdames, she still kept a very warm place 
in her heart for her first mistresses, who certainly had 
been the kindest of mentors to the inexperienced little 
lectrice. 

" I went to say good-bye to Madame Victoire," 
says she. " I did not think that I should never 
again behold this august and virtuous protectress of 
my youth ; she received me alone in her study, and 
assured me that she hoped and wished soon to return 
to France, that it would really be too terrible for the 
French nation if the excesses of the Revolution forced 
her to prolong her absence. Certain persons thought 
that their journey to Rome would be attributed to 
their piety ; however, it would have been a difficult 
matter to deceive the Assemblde concerning the 
behaviour of the royal family, and from that moment 
all that was said and done at the Tuileries was more 
remarked than ever. . . . Madame Victoire then 
added that they were only going away in order to 
leave the king free to act, which he would be better 
able to do when separated from his family, and she 
hoped that the public would understand that their 
determination to leave France was solely caused by 
their indignation at the civil constitution of the 
clergy. ..." 

The comtesse de Boigne was present at Mesdames 
departure, which took place February i8, at eleven 
o'clock at night ; with less cause than Mme Cam- 

123 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

pan to regret the old ladies, she wrote in her 
memoirs : — 

" I think I can still see Madame Addaide with 
her tall, angular figure, her violet dress with its 
voluminous pleats, her butterfly cap, and her two long 
teeth — her very last ! " 

The ladies travelled as Mesdames de Joigny and 
de Rambouillet ; the mysterious Louis de Narbonne, 
Mmes de Narbonne and de Castellux, were among 
their suite. All went well with the fugitives until they 
reached Moret, near Fontainebleau ; here they were 
told to show their passports. Now the travellers had 
taken the precaution to obtain not only passports 
signed by the king and countersigned by Montmorin, 
the Foreign Minister, authorizing them to go to Rome, 
but also a declaration from the Paris municipality 
stating that that body was powerless to prevent these 
citoyennes travelling in whatever part of the kingdom 
they preferred. While the authorities at Moret were 
thinking how they could detain the old ladies and 
their suite, some soldiers belonging to the regiment 
of Haguenau came to their aid, opened the gates of 
the town and enabled them to continue their journey. 

At Arnay-le-Duc, in the ddpartement of the C6te 
d'Or, Mesdames experienced another alarm ; their 
carriages were stopped by the municipality and they 
were required to alight amid a crowd of inquisitive busy- 
bodies who were so impressed by the old ladies' 
stately airs and graces that they all took off their hats. 
One member of the municipality, however, kept his 
hat on his head, on noticing which Madame Victoire, 
realizing that the time for arrogance had passed, 
bestowed one of her sweetest smiles upon the offender, 

124 




Copyright />}'] 



Madame Victoire. 

From a painting by Guiard. 



lBra?m &^ Co. 



MESDAMES ARE DETAINED 

and, as she prepared to enter the humble inn where 
she was to be kept prisoner for eleven days, said to 
him in a tone of supplication : — 

" I pray you. Monsieur, give me your hand to help 
me up this dark staircase ! " 

The provinces had still to learn the Parisians' easy 
nonchalance towards royalty ; the man took off his 
hat and obeyed Madame Victoire as if he had been 
accustomed to do so all his life. Mesdames immedi- 
ately wrote off a protest to the Assemblee, which was 
duly read and discussed for four hours, the witty 
Abbe Maury, among others, taking the fugitives' 
part. After a member, whose name has not been 
handed down to posterity, had protested: "You 
pretend that no law exists to prevent aristocrats 
leaving the country, and I maintain that one 
exists — the salvation of the people," Menou, 
formerly deputy for the nobility of Touraine 
at the &tats Gkndrattx in 1789, endeavoured by 
ridicule and sarcasm to obtain Mesdames release, 
when he said : '' Europe will doubtless be much 
astonished when she learns that the Assemblee 
nationale spent four whole hours discussing the 
departure of Mesdames, who prefer to hear Mass 
in Rome rather than in Paris." Much hilarity was 
caused in Paris by the appearance of a song composed 
by Marchand, in which Gorsas, a contributor to the 
newspaper, Le Coiirrier des 8^ ddpartements, who, 
on Mesdames departure from Bellevue, had apostro- 
phized them in his paper : " Nothing you possess, 
from your chateau of Bellevue to your laces and 
your chemises, belongs to you," was supposed to say 
to Mesdames : — 

125 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" Donnez-nous les chemises 
A Gorsas, 
Donnez-nous les chemises," 

and Madame Victoire to reply in her thick voice : — 

"Avail-il des zemises, 
Gorsas, 
Avail-il des zemises ? " 

The Parisians love sarcasm : another song 
immediately followed entitled, ''Les Chemises de 
Marat ^ ou t Arrestation de Mesdames, Tantes du Roi, 
a Arnay-le-Duc,'' a skit upon the blind faith of 
certain provincials who on reading in Marat's paper, 
L'Ami du peuple, that everything which Mesdames 
possessed belonged to him, and that Mesdames 
baggage had been overhauled, really believed that 
the old ladies had gone off with some of his shirts. 
Marat was furious at this skit — which his lack of 
funds had prevented him suppressing ; had he not 
lately been forced to sell the sheets off his bed in order 
to obtain a few francs with which to pay his bills ? 

Mesdames spent the eleven days of their captivity 
in playing backgammon with the cui'-d of Arnay. 
However on March 3 they were allowed, thanks to 
the largesse which Louis de Narbonne distributed 
right and left, to continue their journey. 



126 



CHAPTER VII 

The queen makes further preparations for flight— M. Campan pere is 
recommended to take a cure — Mme Campan bids farewell to her 
mistress — She hears of the fiasco of Varennes — Marie Antoinette 
sends for her waiting-woman — She returns to Paris and again 
receives proofs of her mistress's confidence — She suffers for her 
brother's opinions — An echo of an old affair — Mme Campan accepts 
some delicate missions. 

During this same month of March (1791) the king 
expressed a wish to go to Saint-Cloud. History 
records how he was forced ^ to give up that project 
and return to his stately prison. On this occasion 
M. Campan /^r^, who had never recovered his health 
since the events of October 5, 1789, received some 
rough treatment at the hands of the populace, who, 
rightly or wrongly, looked upon this expedition as an 
attempt at escape. 

Notwithstanding her disappointment, Marie 
Antoinette spent the whole month of March in 
making preparations for another journey. Of course, 
Mme Campan helped her. Marie Antoinette's 
passion for luxury was a great anxiety to her waiting- 
woman, for the queen insisted upon purchasing a 
quantity of new clothes so that when she reached 
Brussels, which was to be the bourne of their journey, 
she and her children might want for nothing. In 
vain did her waiting- woman remind her that Brussels 
was a civilized town and that, if by chance people 

127 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAISI 

learnt that the queen was sending trunks to Brussels, 
she might be prevented following them. But Marie 
Antoinette's inborn obstinacy forbade her listening 
to her humble friend's advice. Mme Campan, to 
whom the duty of obtaining all these clothes had been 
entrusted, used all her intelligence in order to carry 
out the mission with secrecy. Dressed in sober attire 
and unaccompained, she went from shop to shop 
buying six chemises here, a dress and a cloak there, 
bonnets, shoes, and gloves elsewhere. Her sister, 
Mme Augui^, whose fate, as we shall see, was so 
connected with that of the queen, ordered a complete 
outfit for Madame Royale, who was about the same 
age as her own eldest daughter, while Mme Campan 
had a suit of clothes nominally made for her son 
Henri, but intended for the little Dauphin. When 
these clothes were packed in a big trunk Mme 
Campan, at the queen's command, sent them to one 
of the latter's former waiting- women, the widow of an 
officer, who was then living at Arras, warning her 
that she must be ready to start for Brussels or else- 
where at any moment, which, as the lady owned 
property in Austrian Flanders and often left home on 
business, she could easily do. 

Mme Campan was much exercised as to whether 
she would be chosen to accompany her mistress on her 
flight from France. Marie Antoinette realized that 
the fewer the fugitives the easier their escape would 
be, and so she had informed her waiting-woman that, 
supposing the latter were not on duty at the time of 
the royal family's departure, she, the queen would 
send for her faithful Campan at the earliest oppor- 
tunity. The queen had already given her waiting- 

128 



M. CAMPAN PEBE TAKES A CURE 

woman many proofs of her confidence, and now, on 
the eve of that disastrous flight to Varennes, she 
charged her with several important messages to 
different supporters of the royal cause. 

As the month of June approached, Marie 
Antoinette, dreading the persecutions and ill-treatment 
to which M. Campan and his daughter-in-law would 
surely be subjected at the hands of the revolutionists 
when the escape of the royal prisoners was known, 
determined to get them out of the capital before she 
herself left it. So she told her physician, M. Vicq 
dAzyr, to order the old gentleman to drink the 
waters at Mont Dore. On taking leave of her faith- 
ful servitors Marie Antoinette assured her waiting- 
woman that she deeply regretted the fact that she 
would not enjoy her services during the journey from 
France, and gave her the sum of 500 louis to pay for 
her travelling expenses to Mont Dore, and enable 
her to live quietly until her mistress could send for 
her. This sum, as Mme Campan already had plenty 
of money, she refused to accept. The fact that Mme 
Campan was not chosen to accompany her royal 
mistress on her journey has been quoted by some 
historians as a proof that Marie Antoinette placed 
less trust in her waiting-woman than the latter would 
have us believe. Be this as it may, M. Campan /^^^ 
and his daughter-in-law started for Auvergne during 
the night of May 31 -June i, and arrived at Mont 
Dore on June 6. 

It had been settled that M. Campan 's cure was to 

last until he received news that the royal family had 

crossed the frontier. As day after day went by and 

no news came, the old gentleman and his daughter- 

I 129 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

in-law became more and more anxious. However, 
about four o'clock in the afternoon of June 25, the 
beating of a drum was heard in the peaceful streets 
of Mont Dore, after which a barber from the neigh- 
bouring village of Besse triumphantly informed the 
inhabitants in patois that " the king and queen have 
tried to escape from France and thereby ruin us, but 
I have come to tell you that they have been arrested 
and are now guarded by one hundred thousand 
armed men." 

While M. Campan was still hoping that the news 
was not true, the man added : " The queen, when 
arrested, lifted her veil and said with her well-known 
arrogance to the citizens who were upbraiding the 
king : ' Well, then, as you have recognized your king, 
treat him respectfully,' " — which expression, Mme 
Campan says in her memoirs, could not have been 
invented by the Jacobins of Clermont, and forced her 
to believe the news which was confirmed in the 
evening by another messenger. Two days later 
Mme Campan received an unsigned letter written 
after the queen's return to Paris by one of her 
gentlemen-ushers at her dictation ; it contained 
these words : — 

" I am writing to you from my bath, where I am 
trying to recover my strength. I can say nothing 
concerning my state of mind ; we are still alive, but 
that is all. Do not return here until you receive a 
letter from me : this is very important." 

On hearing that the royal family had been arrested 
and would soon be back in Paris, Mme Campan's 
sister, Mme Augui^ together with four or five of the 
queen's waiting-women, determined to be the first to 

130 



MME AUGUlfe MAKES A FRIEND 

sympathize with the recaptured fugitive. However, 
when they endeavoured to obtain admission to the 
Tuileries, the ladies were rudely repulsed ; it was only 
at the gate of the Feuillants that they found a sentry 
who seemed at all willing to let them enter. While 
they were still arguing with him, they were attacked 
by a mob of fishwives, who covered them with abuse 
and even seized Mme Auguie by the arm, calling her 
"the Austrian woman's slave." Whereupon Mme 
Auguie shook herself free, crying in a loud voice so 
that all the women could hear her : — 

" Listen ! I have been in the queen's service since 
the age of fifteen ; she gave me a dowry and found a 
husband for me. I served her while she was happy and 
powerful ; she is now unhappy : ought I to desert her ? " 

With that sudden revulsion of feeling to which 
the French are prone in periods of revolution, the fish- 
wives bawled out : — 

"She is quite right, she ought not to desert her 
mistress ; we'll get her in ! " 

So saying they joined hands, jostled the sentry on 
one side, pushed Mme Auguie and her companions 
through the gate of the Feuillants, and almost carried 
them on to the terrace. One of the fishwives had 
taken quite a fancy to Mme Augui^, for, on bidding 
her farewell, she gave her this valuable piece of 
advice : — 

** My dear friend, be sure to take off your green 
waistband ; 'tis the colour of that d'Artois, whom we 
shall never fororive." 

In order to be near Paris whenever the queen 
required her services, Mme Campan and her father- 
in-law left Mont Dore, and went to Clermont, where 

131 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

they were on the point of being arrested by order of 
the AssembUe constituante, who had guessed the 
reason of Mme Campan's sudden departure from 
Paris. At Clermont, however, the travellers found 
an advocate in the person of the Abb6 Louis, himself 
a member of the Assemblee constituante, and with his 
help they were able to prove that M. Campan pere was 
in poor health when he left the capital, as, indeed, he 
remained until his death, which occurred in the 
following month of September. 

Mme Campan received the expected summons in the 
beginning of August, for Marie Antoinette still believed 
that brighter days would dawn, and did not realize the 
risk her faithful servitors ran in returning to Paris. 

Mme Campan reached the capital towards the 
end of August ; she found Paris much quieter than 
she had expected. On September i she saw her 
mistress for the first time since the return from 
Varennes. At first the waiting-woman noticed but 
little change in her queen's appearance. Marie 
Antoinette had just left her bed ; after saying a 
few words of greeting to her faithful friend, the queen 
took off her night- cap, when Mme Campan saw that 
her mistress's hair had turned snow-white during that 
terrible night spent in the house of the grocer. Sauce, 
at Varennes. Mme Campan burst into tears at the 
sight. The queen, touched by her servitor's grief, 
showed her a ring made of her hair which she 
intended to give to the princesse de Lamballe with 
this inscription : " Blanchis par le malheur! " Marie 
Antoinette then told her waiting-woman that she 
would have need of her services in order to com- 
municate with MM. Barnave and Lameth, whom 

132 



A LITTLE VICTIM 

she considered might in future be of use to her. Mme 
Campan was greatly astonished to hear the queen 
speak of Barnave as if she really liked him. On 
expressing her surprise, and begging the queen to be 
careful how she trusted the eloquent orator, Marie 
Antoinette assured her that Barnave was worthy of 
her confidence, and that his behaviour during the 
journey from Varennes to Paris had been most 
chivalrous, and a perfect contrast to that of Potion, 
who had not only insisted upon sharing the berlin of 
the royal family, but their meals also, when he had 
behaved in a most unseemly manner, throwing 
chicken-bones out of the carriage-window at the risk 
of hitting the king in the face, and never thanking 
Mme Elisabeth when she filled his glass with wine, 
but only tipping it up to show that he had had 
enough. And then the litde Dauphin, who had 
suffered much from the heat during the previous day, 
and was sick and tired out, had to endure Potion's 
well-meant attentions ; for the virtuous patriot, who, 
like all Frenchmen, was fond of children, had taken 
the Dauphin on his knees that he might stroke the 
child's soft curls while conversing with the royal 
parents. Unfortunately Potion forgot in the heat of 
his political discussions that he was holding a litde 
child, the future victim of those politics, on his knees ; 
and while curling the golden locks between his fingers, 
all unconsciously pulled too hard, causing the little 
Louis to cry out with pain, whereupon Marie 
Antoinette said : — 

" Give me my son — he is accustomed to be treated 
with respect, not with familiarity." 

A few days after Louis xvi accepted the Constitu- 

^33 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

tion, Mme Campan received a letter from the comte 
de Montmorin begging her to grant him an interview 
in the queen's study, as he did not wish to compromise 
the faithful waiting-woman by coming to her own 
house. 

During the interview, M. de Montmorin, having 
thanked Mme Campan for all she had done for the 
unfortunate queen, told her that the king was in great 
danger ; that plots to assassinate him were of daily 
occurrence ; that his only chance of salvation lay in 
keeping the sacred oath he had just taken. To Mme 
Campan, born and bred within the shadow of 
Versailles, who still believed in the divine right of the 
Sovereign, the Constitution appeared as a sign of the 
end of the world ; she remarked to M. de Montmorin 
that the king, should he adhere to the Constitution, 
would compromise himself in the eyes of those 
royalists who considered moderation a crime, and 
that she herself would be called a constitutionnelle, 
because she held that the nation's fame, happiness, 
and welfare lay in the king's hands, an opinion which 
she had formed in early youth, and which she could 
not bear to think that people should imagine her 
capable of changing. 

"Do you think," questioned the count, "that I 
could ever wish for any other government .'* Do you 
doubt my devotion to the king and my desire to see 
his rights maintained .-* " 

" Of course not ! " replied Mme Campan, " but you 
must be aware that people say that you have adopted 
revolutionary opinions." 

" Well, madame," retorted M. de Montmorin, 
" show your courage by concealing your thoughts ; 

134 



DEATH OF M. CAMPAN PERE 

never has dissimulation been more necessary. We 
are endeavouring to frustrate the revolutionists' plots 
as much as possible, and we must not allow them 
to get the better of us by continuing to spread the 
reports of what the king and queen say and do, with 
which Paris is now inundated." 

Mme Campan applauded all M. de Montmorin 
said, and told him that she had been obliged to im- 
pose silence upon the queen's servants — now, alas ! 
becoming fewer and fewer — when their indignation 
at the treatment to which their mistress was being 
subjected burst forth into angry cries, for which 
service she had only reaped sullen looks and muttered 
protests. 

" I know it," remarked the count greatly to her 
surprise, "the queen has told me all about the matter, 
and that is why I have come to beg you to do your 
very best to be prudent and to impress prudence upon 
others." 

A few days later Mme Campan experienced a 
great loss by the death of her father-in-law, her best 
friend, whose wise counsels and affectionate care had 
helped her to avoid those quicksands which beset the 
path of a misunderstood wife, surrounded by would-be 
consolers. The scenes of horror enacted at Versailles 
which had occasioned the queen's departure from that 
glorious abode, had left a lasting impression upon his 
brain ; he grew weaker and weaker, until he finally 
died at La Briche. 

After the good old man's decease, his executors 
gave into Mme Campan's charge the two packets 
which Marie Antoinette had placed in her secretary's 
hand shortly before her flight from Versailles in 

135 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

October 1789. Mme Campan immediately carried 
them to her mistress, and asked her what she was to 
do with them. The queen kept the largest packet and 
confided the smaller parcel to her waiting-woman with 
this injunction : — 

" Keep this for me as your father-in-law did." 
The queen's dread of poison was redoubled when, 
in the end of 1791, the intendant of the Civil List, 
M. de La Porte, received information from the police 
that a well-known Jacobin pastry-cook living in the 
Palais- Royal, who was about to take the place of the 
king's late cook, had been heard to say that anybody 
who shortened the king's life would do France a great 
service. As the royal family dared not cancel the 
pastry-cook's appointment, it was arranged that the 
king and queen were to refrain from eating any pastry. 
Now as Louis xvi had a very sweet tooth, and like 
all his race was unable to curb his appetite, Mme 
Campan ordered cakes and pastry in her own name, 
first at this pastry-cook's shop, and then at that. Not 
content with these precautions, Mme Campan kept 
the bread and wine used by her master and mistress 
under lock and key in the king's study ; when the 
royal family were seated at table, Mme Campan would 
bring in bread, cake, and wine — which the king alone 
drank, the queen and the princess only taking water — 
being careful not to do so until the footmen had re- 
tired. The king having drunk of this wine, would 
then half fill his glass from the decanter placed on the 
table by the footmen, and crumble the pastry supplied 
by the Jacobin pastry-cook. The meal ended, Mme 
Campan removed what remained of her supplies. So 
carefully was this daily manoeuvre carried out, that no- 

136 



LETTERS IN CIPHER 

body guessed the fears which a talkative below-stairs 
politician had aroused, nor was the reason of the king's 
sudden indifference towards charlottes, beignets, and 
marchpane cakes ever discovered. 

The queen spent the long hours of night, when 
anxiety banishes sleep from the weary watcher, in read- 
ing ; the days were occupied in writing letters in cipher 
to her relatives and friends. Mme Campan was em- 
ployed to copy some of these missives, which, unless 
one possessed the key, were impossible to understand ; 
sometimes the queen chose a line on a page of a certain 
edition of Paul and Virginia as the key to the cipher. 
It was Mme Campan's duty to find trusty messengers 
to carry these letters ; so skilfully did she arrange 
matters, that none of the missives entrusted to her 
care were ever intercepted or failed to reach their 
destination. Marie Antoinette, deserted by so many 
of her erstwhile friends, and unable to trust some 
of those who still remained, continued to place the 
greatest confidence in her "faithful Campan"; this 
trust made her waiting-woman odious, not only to her 
fellow-servitors, but also to both political parties. One 
revolutionist in especial, Prudhomme, denounced her 
in his Gazette rdvolutionnaire as a dangerous person, 
capable of making an aristocrate of the mother of 
the Gracchi ; while the royalist Gauthier called her 
monarckienne and constitutionnelle, and said that she 
did more harm to the queen's cause than if she were a 
Jacobin. 

Mme Campan not only suffered for her own 
fidelity to the royal cause, but the letters written to 
her about this time by her brother, Edmond Charles 
Genest, who was still in Russia, and whom she 

137 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

strongly suspected of sympathy for the popular party, 
came near to deprive her of her mistress's favour. At 
the age of eighteen, Edmond Genest, thanks to M. de 
Vergennes' promise to the youth's father to protect 
him as long as he lived, had been given the post of 
attach^ at the French Embassy in Vienna. Two 
years later he was sent to England as chief secretary 
to the legation, when, soon after his arrival, he sub- 
mitted to M. de Vergennes a report concerning the 
danger incurred by France through the treaty of 
commerce, which, partly owing to M. de Calonne's 
influence, had just been concluded with England ; this 
report gave great offence to M. de Rayneval, chief 
clerk at the Foreign Office. On the death of his 
protector in 1787, M. Genest found himself almost 
without friends, and thwarted on every occasion by 
his enemy, M. de Rayneval. However, the comte de 
Segur, France's representative at the Russian Court, 
having obtained for M. Genest the post of charge 
d'affaires to the French legation at Saint Petersburg. 
Mme Campan's brother started for that town, swear- 
ing vengeance on his enemy, and foretelling disaster 
to France if her rulers did not treat the nation with 
confidence. 

His letters to his sister were full of bitter re- 
criminations and warnings as to what was coming. 
On one occasion Marie Antoinette surprised her 
waiting- woman in tears ; having asked to be allowed 
to see the letter in Mme Campan's hand, the queen 
read it and handed it back to her with this re- 
mark : — 

" This letter is written by a young man who has 
been led astray by ambition and discontent ; I know 

138 



MME CAMPAN RECEIVES GOOD ADVICE 

that you do not share his opinions — do not fear to 
lose my confidence and that of the king." 

Notwithstanding her mistress's consoling words, the 
faithful Campan told the queen that she should in future 
neither write to her brother nor reply to his letters. 
This measure, however, the queen said was un- 
necessary, and might be dangerous. Mme Campan 
then beorp-ed her mistress to allow her to show her all 
her brother's letters and her own replies, to which 
request the queen acceded. In her next letter, Mme 
Campan blamed her brother so sharply for his out- 
spoken remarks concerning matters in France, that 
he, in his answer, stated that he should in future for- 
bear to mention French politics, and should confine 
himself to describing the wind and the weather ; he 
also warned her that he should take no notice of 
any of her letters containing questions concerning 
politics in Russia, and ended with this very sensible 
injunction : — 

" Serve your august mistress with the boundless 
devotion which you owe her, and let us each do our 
duty. I will only observe that the huge capital is 
often hidden from the gaze of the inhabitants of the 
Pavilion de Flore ^ on account of thick fogs rising 
from the Seine ; in fact I believe that I, in far-away 
Saint Petersburg, can see it more clearly than you do 
in Paris itself." 

On reading this letter Marie Antoinette thought 
for a minute and then said : — 

" Perhaps he is right after all. . . . Who can 
realize in what a disastrous condition we now find 
ourselves ? " 

* The Pavilion de Flore forms part of the palace of the Louvre. 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

But Mme Campan was not the only person who, 
willingly or unwillingly, had to show her letters to a 
second person ; for Barnave, who had obtained con- 
siderable influence over Marie Antoinette since the 
fiasco of Varennes, dreading her imprudence and mis- 
trusting her sincerity, had insisted upon being allowed 
to read his queen's correspondence. Mme Campan 
frequently read to her mistress letters from Barnave 
urging her to trust to the constitutionalists, warning 
her not to believe the protestations of the European 
kings and princes, mere puppets in the hands of their 
statesmen, and blaming the mad behaviour of the 
Emigres. If protestations of sympathy and friendship 
could have kept the crown of France on the head of 
the luckless Louis xvi, then surely he would never 
have lost both crown and head. Did not even Pitt, 
who hated France so well, go the length of saying to 
an unknown messenger — perhaps the famous Craufurd 
— sent to England by the despairing queen, that "he 
would not allow the French monarchy to perish, and 
that it would be a great mistake, and most fatal to 
the peace of Europe, if the revolutionists were per- 
mitted to establish a Republic in France " ? Vain 
words ! empty promises ! 

But when time passed, and nothing was done, 
Marie Antoinette cried bitterly to her faithful 
Campan : — 

" I cannot utter the name of Pitt without shudder- 
ing. That man is France's mortal enemy ; he is 
taking a cruel revenge for the impolitic support given 
to the American rebels by the Cabinet of Versailles. 
He wishes by our destruction to secure his country's 
supremacy on the seaboard, perfect his king's plans 

140 



AN ECHO OF AN OLD AFFAIR 

to improve his navy, and profit by the happy results 
of the last war. . . . Pitt has served the revolution 
from the very commencement ! " 

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, 
But in battalions ! " 

In the beginning of the fatal year, 1792, an echo 
was heard in the stately rooms of the palace of the 
Tuileries of that terrible scandal which had crept 
through the (Eil de Boeuf and along the polished 
parquet and marble halls of Versailles, stalking like 
a pestilential wraith up and down secret staircases 
and corridors, slinking like a serpent along the box- 
trimmed garden-walks of the queen's Eden, and 
blighting more than one year of Marie Antoinette's 
married life. 

One day Mme Campan received a visit from a 
venerable priest, who informed her that it had come 
to his knowledge that certain persons lately arrived 
from England were contemplating publishing a libel 
freshly concocted by the hands of the queen's enemy, 
Mme de Lamotte, now living in a London slum. As 
these persons had expressed their willingness to part 
with the manuscript to anybody who would give them 
their price — one thousand louis — the priest proposed 
to Mme Campan that he should buy the libel, 
supposing the queen would provide him with the 
wherewithal. Rightly or wrongly, Marie Antoinette 
refused to have anything to do with the matter, giving 
as her reason that, if she were to be so foolish as to 
buy the libel, the Jacobins would hear of it — besides 
which she was convinced that it would be published 
whether she paid hush-money or not. However, she 
was fated to hear more of the matter. 

141 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Soon after this episode, another visitor, in the 
person of M. d'Aubier, one of the king's gentlemen, 
came to see Mme Campan, whom he startled by the 
following piece of news : — 

"The Assemblee,'' said he, "has been much 
exercised by a denunciation recently made by some 
workmen in the china manufactory at Sevres. These 
men brought a bundle of papers and placed it on the 
president's desk, declaring that it contained 2, Life of 
Marie Antoinette. The director of the manufactory 
having been ordered to appear in court, he said that 
he had received commands to burn the papers in the 
ovens used for baking the china." 

Mme Campan, trembling lest the supposed Life 
of Marie Antoinette should prove to be the libel for 
which the queen had lately refused to pay hush- 
money, hurried off to her mistress and told her of the 
discovery. While she and the queen were wondering 
how the papers came to be in such a strange place, 
Mme Campan noticed that the king, who was 
listening, became scarlet in the face and sank his head 
on his breast. The queen likewise remarked his 
attitude, and turned to him saying : — 

" Monsieur, do you know anything about the 
matter ? " 

The king made no reply. Even when Mme 
Elisabeth, his favourite, asked him to explain the 
affair, he said nothing. 

Mme Campan, seeing that her presence only dis- 
tressed the royal family, retired to her own room. A 
few minutes later Marie Antoinette appeared and 
gave her the following explanation of the enigma : 
The king, out of affection for his wife, had purchased 

142 



SUFFERS FOR HER BROTHER 

without her knowledge or consent the entire edition of 
the Hbel which, as the queen had refused to buy it, 
had been printed and was about to be published. 
With characteristic imprudence the good-hearted king, 
instead of burning the papers with his own hands, had 
given them to M. de La Porte, the intendant of the Civil 
List, who could think of nothing better than to send 
them to the china manufactory at Sevres, there to be 
burnt by workmen at least half of whom were probably 
Jacobins, and some of whom had carefully saved several 
copies of the libel, and brought them to the Assemblee. 

Mme Campan was placed about this time in a very 
uncomfortable position owing to her brother's well- 
known political opinions. In consequence of a denun- 
ciation, the Assemble had summoned Mme Campan's 
former friend, M. de Montmorin, to appear and 
explain his negligence in having left unopened forty 
dispatches sent to him by M. Genest, France's charge 
d'affaires in Russia. In his defence, M. de Montmorin 
said that he had done so because he knew that M. 
Genest was a constitutionalist, and he considered his 
communications of small value. The king had re- 
quested Mme Campan to assist at M. de Montmorin's 
examination, and bring him back a report of all she 
had heard. It was a painful duty ; nevertheless she 
attended the meeting, and brought back to the king a 
faithful account of the proceedings, taking care, how- 
ever, not to name her brother, but to call him : " Your 
Majesty's charge d'affaires at Saint Petersburg." 

"The king," says she in her memoirs, "was so 
gracious as to observe that my account showed great 
discernment." 

On March i, 1792, Marie Antoinette lost her 

143 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

beloved brother, Leopold ii, Emperor of Germany ; it 
was Mme Campan who read the letter containing the 
news of his death to his sister, whereupon the latter, 
bursting into tears, cried out that he had been 
poisoned ; and when her waiting-woman asked her 
why she thought so, replied that when he joined the 
coalition at Pillnitz people had said that "a pasty 
would settle the business ! " 

Marie Antoinette's first thought was to write a 
letter of condolence to her nephew ^ on the loss of his 
father. She had so much to say, but she knew that 
her letter would have to pass through the hands of 
MM. Barnave and Lameth. In her perplexity she 
said to the faithful Campan : — 

"Sit down at this table and write me a rough copy 
of what I ought to say. Be sure to insist upon 
the fact that I expect my nephew to walk in his 
father's footsteps. If your letter is better than what I 
myself thought of writing, you shall dictate it to me." 

" I wrote what I considered suitable," says Mme 
Campan ; '* she read the letter and said to me : — 

'* ' That is the very thing ! The matter lay too 
near my heart for me to write as coolly and as 
sensibly as you have done.' " 

The queen felt very keenly the position of semi- 
imprisonment in which she and her family were now 
living. The departure of her own father-confessor, 
the cur6 of Saint-Eustache, had deprived her of 
spiritual consolation. The faithful Campan accom- 
panied her mistress to all the Lenten services, which 
were celebrated in the private chapel of the Tuileries. 
On Easter Sunday, 1792, Mme Campan, at the 

* Francis ii, Emperor of Germany. 
144 



DUMOURIEZ'S CAREER OF DUPLICITY 

queen's request, persuaded one of her relatives to say 
Mass at five o'clock in the morning. 

" I was the only person who accompanied her," 
wrote the queen's waiting-woman ; " it was still dark. 
She took my arm while I lighted the way with a 
candle. I left her alone at the chapel door. She did 
not return to her apartments until day was beginning 
to dawn." 

It was but natural that the queen, in the midst of 
this general debacle of worldly and spiritual friends, 
should turn towards any one who showed sympathy 
for her. Mme Campan relates in her memoirs an 
extraordinary offer which her mistress received about 
this time from Dumouriez — Napoleon gauged his 
character, when he called him "nothing but a vulgar 
intriguer." 

" I found the queen much agitated," wrote she ; 
" she told me that she really did not know what she 
was about ; that the chiefs of the Jacobins had offered 
their services through Dumouriez, or that Dumouriez, 
deserting the Jacobins, had come to offer his own 
services to her ; that she had granted him an audience ; 
that, as soon as he had found himself alone with her, 
he had flung himself at her feet and informed her 
that, although he had placed the red cap on his head, 
he was not and never could be a Jacobin ; that the 
revolution was now in the hands of a mob of dis- 
organizers who only cared for pillage, who were 
capable of committing any crime, who could provide 
the Assemble with a formidable army, and were 
ready to undermine the last supports of a throne 
which was already tottering. While speaking with 
extraordinary warmth, Dumouriez seized the queen's 
K 145 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

hand and kissed it passionately, crying : ' Let yourself 
be saved ! ' " 

Dumouriez's subsequent disloyalty to all interests 
except his own justified Marie Antoinette's refusal to 
have anything to do with him or his plans. 

In the month of June 1792, the waves of the 
Revolution again laved the steps of a royal palace, 
and the royal family were again exposed to the fury 
of that ever-restless ocean, the populace. 

Two days before the invasion of the Tuileries, the 
kino-, anxious to assure himself that those who re- 
mained of his wife's retinue were faithful, said to the 
princesse de Lamballe : " Send for Mme Campan, 
then we shall be sure to obtain impartial informa- 
tion." 

Mme Campan, on reading the list of the queen's 
few remaining ladies, noticed the name of a certain 
high-born dame, as faithful a servitor as herself, but 
who had caused the more humbly born Campan 
many an uncomfortable hour on account of her 
jealousy. On returning the list to the princesse de 
Lamballe, Mme Campan remarked that this particular 
lady was absolutely devoted to the queen's interests, 
and then added : 

"Will your Highness kindly note that this lady 
is my particular enemy ? " 

" I will not write that down," replied the princess, 
but I will never forget it, and I dare her to do you 
any harm henceforth." 

Even in those days, when Death was knocking at 
the gilded gates of the Tuileries, Jealousy was all- 
powerful, and crept through key-holes and crevices 
where sympathy and pity were afraid to venture. 

146 



A STRANGE HIDING PLACE 

We have already seen that Mme Campan had been 
made to suffer for her brother's political opinions. 

" Shortly before the invasion of the Tuileries," 
she says, "the queen granted audiences to several 
ladies and persons about the Court who had come on 
purpose to tell her that my brother was a constitu- 
tionalist and an avowed revolutionist. The queen 
replied to them : ' I know it — Mme Campan told me 
so herself.' Certain persons jealous of my position 
and of my exalted title, humiliated me, and made my 
life so painful that I asked the queen to allow me to 
retire into private life. She exclaimed at such an 
idea, showed me how it would endanger my own 
reputation, and was so gracious as to add that neither 
for her own sake nor for mine would she ever give 
her consent. After this interview, during which I 
knelt at her feet, bathing her hands with my tears, I 
retired to my own apartment. A few minutes later 
a footman brought me a note containing these words : 
' I have never ceased to give you proofs of my 
affection ; I wish to tell you in writing that I believe 
in your honour, and in your fidelity, as much as in 
your other good qualities ; I shall continue to rely 
upon the zeal and the intelligence with which you 
have always served me.' " 

While Mme Campan was still perusing her 
mistress's letter, a gentleman belonging to the king's 
household, M. de La Chapelle by name, came to beg 
her to give him the missive that he might hide it in a 
safe place. Mme Campan regretfully entrusted the 
precious token of royal gratitude to the care of M. de 
La Chapelle, who then concealed it behind a picture 
in his private study in the Tuileries palace, where it 

147 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

remained undiscovered. On August lo, M. de La 
Chapelle was arrested and thrown into the prison of 
the Abbaye, whereupon the Convention^ immedi- 
ately took possession of his study and used it as a 
meeting-place ; during one of its seances, M. de La 
Chapelle was denounced by his footman, who swore 
that several incriminating documents were concealed 
beneath a loose band in his master's hat. This asser- 
tion having been proved, M. de La Chapelle was 
sentenced to death, a sentence which he managed to 
escape by a miracle, as well as the September massacres, 
which opened the doors of so many prisons in Paris 
and in the provinces. When the Convention migrated 
to the king's private apartments, M. de La Chapelle 
was permitted to go to his study and remove some of 
his belongings. On finding himself alone for a 
moment, he hastily turned a certain picture with its 
face to the wall, removed the queen's letter which 
had remained undiscovered since his departure, and 
flung it into the fire which was blazing on the hearth. 

But we must go back a few months. 

Mme Campan was about to hasten to the queen's 
boudoir in order to thank her for her graciousness, 
when she heard somebody knocking at her door ; she 
opened it, and, to her astonishment, beheld the king. 

" I am afraid I frightened you," he said in his 
kind, slightly drawling voice; "but I have come to 
reassure you. The queen has told me how the cruel 
treatment received from the hands of so many persons 
has wounded you. But how can you complain of 

1 Mme Campan says it was the Comite de Salut public which took 
possession of M. de La Chapelle's study ; that body, however, was not 
formed until March 25, 1793. 

148 



A FAITHFUL SERVANT 

injustice and calumny when you see that even we are 
not spared ? . . . We are in a most unfortunate posi- 
tion ; we have experienced so much ingratitude and 
treachery that the fears of those who love us are 
pardonable. I might reassure them by telling them 
of the secret services which you daily render us ; but 
I do not want to do so. Should they, out of kind- 
ness to you, repeat what I said, you would be ruined 
in the opinion of the Asseniblde. It is much better 
for you and for us that people should believe you to 
be a constitutionalist. People have already informed 
me of the fact twenty times ; I have never contra- 
dicted the report, but I have come to give you my 
word that, if we are so lucky as to see the end of this 
business, I shall publicly acknowledge in the presence 
of the queen and my brother, the important services 
which you have rendered to us, and I shall reward 
you and your son." 

Although Mme Campan was frequently exposed 
to great risks while executing the queen's commands, 
she never hesitated to obey. On one occasion Marie 
Antoinette was anxious to see Barnave, the discovery 
of whose correspondence with the king was to lead to 
his death. Mme Campan was told to go and wait 
for Barnave at a little door leading to the royal apart- 
ments. For one long weary hour she stood with 
beating heart, expecting the arrival of the then 
powerful politician, her agitation being not a little in- 
creased by sudden and unexpected flying visits from 
the king who was in a scarcely less agitated condition 
owing to the strange behaviour of one of his footmen, 
a patriot of the name of Decret. The king was in 
terror lest this man should discover the two trembling 

149 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

watchers, or surprise Barnave in a secret interview 
with the queen, "for," whispered he to the faithful 
Campan, " such a discovery would of a surety be 
productive of many grave denunciations, and the 
unfortunate victims would be ruined." 

And he was not reassured when she reminded 
him that she was not the only person in the secret, 
and added that she sometimes feared lest one of 
her colleagues should be tempted to boast of their 
powerful friend. 

The king left her with a heavy heart ; he returned a 
few minutes later with the queen, who, after endeavour- 
ing to reassure her waiting-woman, released her from 
her post, saying : — 

" You need not remain any longer ; I will now 
take my turn to wait for him. You have convinced 
the king we must not let more people into the secret of 
Barnave's communications with us than we can help." 
However, Barnave proved to be but a broken 
reed. Mme Campan says : — 

" Hope had fled. The queen wrote imploring 
letters to her relations and to the king's brothers ; 
her letters probably became more pressing, and she 
complained of their tardy conduct. Her Majesty read 
me a letter from the archduchess Marie Christine, wife 
of the Governor of the Netherlands ; she blamed her 
for some of her expressions, and told her that people 
outside France were quite as alarmed as herself con- 
cerning the safety of the French royal family, but 
that their salvation or their perdition depended upon 
the manner in which they were rescued, and that the 
coalition, being charged with such precious interests, 
must exercise prudence. ..." 

150 



A FAITHFUL SERVANT 

The queen was at that time in correspondence 
with a very unpopular personage, namely, the marquis 
Bertrand Antoine de Molleville, who in the previous 
month of January had been convicted of telling lies 
in the presence of the Assemblee legislative. M. de 
Marsilly, formerly a lieutenant in the regiment of the 
Cent-Suisses, was employed to carry the queen's 
letters to M. de Molleville. When M. de Marsilly 
accepted this trust, the queen wrote to him: "Ad- 
dress yourself to Mme Campan in full confidence ; 
her brother's conduct in Russia has had no effect 
upon her feelings ; she is devoted body and soul to 
us ; and if, in the future, you should have messages 
to communicate by word of mouth, you can perfectly 
rely upon her discretion and her devotion." 



151 



CHAPTER VIII 

Marie Antoinette changes her bedroom — Mme Campan provides the 
king with some strange garments — Attempt upon the queen's life — 
The king's imprudence — A false alarm — Petion pays a visit to the 
Tuileries — The palace is besieged — Mme Campan has a narrow 
escape — She is allowed to see the royal prisoners at the Feuillants. 

It is curious to think how to the very last the queen 
hoped and believed that she and her family would 
be rescued by her talkative but slow-paced friends 
and relatives across the eastern frontier of France. 
Meanwhile her friends at home were less sanguine, 
and entertained serious fears lest she and her husband 
should be assassinated before those other friends 
could rescue her. 

In the beginning of the month of July, Marie 
Antoinette, with some difficulty, was persuaded to 
change her bedroom to a room on the first floor, 
situated between the bedrooms of the king and the 
Dauphin. 

In order that she might feel less lonely during 
those long, sleepless nights of anxiety, the queen 
ordered her shutters to be left open. Once when 
Mme Campan crept into her mistress's room in the 
middle of the night and found the queen lying in bed 
wide awake with the moonbeams streaming through 
the windows, filling every nook and crevice with 
strange, unearthly shadows, and making her pale face 

152 



THE KING FEARS AN ATTACK 

look even paler, Marie Antoinette beckoned her to 
her bedside and, pointing to the moon, whispered : — 

" Before another month has elapsed the king and 
I shall have shaken off our chains, and we shall be 
free. They will soon rescue us. But our friends 
disagree in a terrible manner ; some declare that 
our plans will be crowned with success, while others 
say that there are insurmountable difficulties to be 
faced. I have in my possession the itinerary which 
the princes and the king of Prussia intend to follow. 
I know the date of their entry into Verdun, and 
when they move to such and such a place. ..." 

The queen then added that she dreaded what 
might happen meanwhile in Paris, and lamented the 
king's lack of energy, to which, indeed, we may 
attribute all his misfortunes. 

It was believed by the friends of the royal family 
that the third anniversary of the taking of the Bastille 
would be marked by an attempt to murder the king 
and queen. So completely did Mme Campan share 
this belief, that she never once undressed and went to 
bed during the month of July. The king was urged 
by everybody to wear some sort of protection beneath 
his coat ; at last, in order to please the queen, he 
gave Mme Campan permission to order a waistcoat 
and a belt sufficiently thick to protect the vital organs. 
These garments were made of fifteen folds of the 
thickest Italian silk, and were so efficacious that not 
only could no stiletto pierce them, but the bullets of 
those days were flattened by impact. The garments 
finished, Mme Campan, not knowing where to hide 
them while waiting for an opportunity to get the king 
to try them on, hung them by a string round her own 

153 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

person, and for three days went about with them under 
her skirts where they impeded her every movement 
and made her quake with anxiety lest they should 
become unfastened, or trip her up, and thus reveal 
their presence. 

At last a favourable opportunity presented itself 
while the king was in his wife's room. M. Gentil, 
the head valet, helped Mme Campan to button his 
Majesty into this new-fashioned armour which the 
good-natured king, at his wife's request, subsequently 
wore on the famous anniversary. While these strange 
garments were being tried on, the king plucked at 
Mme Campan's skirt, and made a sign to her to leave 
the queen's bedside — for Marie Antoinette had not 
risen yet — when he whispered in her ear : — 

" I only consented to this importunity in order 
to please the queen. They will not assassinate me, 
they have changed their mind — they will get rid of 
me in some other way." 

The queen noticed the king whispering to the 
faithful Campan, and when he left the room, she called 
her waiting-woman to her bedside, and asked what he 
had said. 

" I hesitated before replying," wrote Mme 
Campan in her memoirs ; " she insisted, however, and 
told me that I must conceal nothing, because she was 
resigned to bear everything. When she heard what 
the king had said, she told me that she had guessed 
everything, that he had often told her that the events 
which were then being enacted in France were an 
imitation of the revolution in England under Charles i, 
and that he was never tired of reading the history 
of that unfortunate monarch, so that he might avoid 

154 



THE QUEEN REFUSES PRECAUTIONS 

the faults which that sovereign had committed during 
a similar crisis. 

** * I was beginning to fear that they would bring 
a lawsuit against the king,' added the queen ; *as for 
me, I am a foreigner — they will assassinate me. . . . 
What will become of our poor children ? ' 

" She burst into tears. I wanted to give her an 
antispasmodic potion ; but she refused it, saying that 
only happy women suffered from hysterics, that 
nothing could mend the cruel position in which she 
now found herself. In fact, the health of the queen, 
who, during her happy days, had often suffered from 
hysterics, became perfect now that her mind was 
needed to sustain her body. ..." 

Mme Campan, although well aware that her 
mistress could be very obstinate on occasion, had a 
pair of stays made of the same material as the king's 
waistcoat and belt> in the hope that her Majesty would 
consent to wear them ; but when she came with them 
in her hand and begged her mistress on her bended 
knees and with tears in her eyes to wear them for the 
sake of her humble servant if not for her husband's 
sake, the queen replied : — 

"It will be a good thing for me if the rebels do 
murder me, they will free me from a very painful 
existence." 

The expected attack upon the queen's life came 
soon after. During one of those short summer nights 
which seemed so long to the pale-faced watchers, 
Mme Campan, while seated beside her mistress's bed, 
heard footsteps in the passage outside. It required 
some courage to open the door and summon the 
sleepy footman, but Mme Campan neither in mental nor 

155 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

physical crises lacked courage ; she unlocked the door 
and called loudly for "her Majesty's footman." She 
had hardly spoken when she heard a noise as if two 
men were fighting ; quickly relocking the door, she 
hastened back to the queen's bedside. Marie 
Antoinette, trembling with terror, flung her arms 
round her faithful Campan's neck and cried : — 

" Oh ! what a position I am in ! exposed to insults 
by day, and to assassins by night!" 

A few seconds later the queen's footman came to 
the door and called out : — 

"Madame, I've caught the scoundrel, I've got 
him tight ! " 

" Let him go," replied the queen, " open the door 
for him. He came to murder me ; had he succeeded, 
the Jacobins would have borne him in triumph." 

On opening the door, Mme Campan beheld the 
queen's footman, who was a very strong fellow, 
holding by the wrists one of the king's footmen who, 
doubtless with the intention of murdering the queen, 
had extracted the key of her Majesty's bedroom out 
of the king's coat-pocket after the latter had gone 
to bed. 

The would-be murderer released, the queen 
thanked her footman for exposing his life, to which 
he replied that "he was afraid of nothing, and that 
he always wore two pistols on his person in order to 
defend her Majesty." 

On the morrow all the locks of the doors to the 
royal apartments were changed. 

The king fully realized that Mme Campan's duties 
exposed her to many risks, and he endeavoured to 
recompense her for her devotion. Some days after 

156 



THE IRON CUPBOARD 

the above incident he met Mme Campan in a narrow 
staircase ; when she drew on one side in order to let 
her master pass, he seized her arm and, as she bent 
forward to kiss his hand, saluted her on both cheeks 
without uttering a single word. So overcome was 
the faithful Campan with this proof of her master's 
gratitude, and with grief for what that master was 
suffering, that she scarcely realized what had happened, 
and asked herself whether she had been dreaminsf. 

A propos of locks and keys, the king's hobby was 
only another link in that chain of fatality which he 
forged with his own hands during those ten years 
when he worked side by side with Gamin — Soulavie 
called him " that infamous Gamin " — to the detri- 
ment of other and far more pressing affairs. 

It must ever be a source of astonishment to 
students of the history of the French Revolution that 
the actors in that poignant drama should, at the risk 
of imperilling their own lives and the lives of their 
dependants, have deliberately kept compromising 
documents in such insecure places as iron cupboards 
wherein inquisitive people would be sure to pry when- 
ever they got a chance. M. de La Chapelle was far 
wiser when he chose the back of a picture as a safe 
hiding-place — as Mme Campan also found when gover- 
ness to the Bonapartes. For her part Mme Campan, 
dreading another invasion of the palace, prudently 
burnt nearly all the papers confided to her charge. 
Marie Antoinette had laid aside the sum of 140,000 
francs (^5600) in gold, in readiness for the escape 
which she still believed possible. This sum she was 
very anxious to confide to Mme Campan's keeping, 
but the latter persuaded her to keep 40,000 francs, so 

157 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

that, if the hour of delivery ever struck, she might 
have the wherewithal to purchase silence and 
obedience. 

At the advice of Marie Antoinette, who had 
always mistrusted Gamin, the king placed some of his 
most important papers in a fortfolio, which he then 
gave to Mme Campan. She says in her memoirs : — 

" The queen advised the king in my presence to 
leave nothing in the cupboard ; whereupon the king, 
anxious to reassure her, replied that he had left nothing 
in it. I wanted to take the portfolio to my room ; 
but it was too heavy for me to lift. The king told 
me that he would carry it himself ; I walked before 
him in order to open the doors. Having placed the 
portfolio in my private study, he merely said to me : 
* The queen will tell you what it contains.' On re- 
turning to the queen I asked her what it contained, as 
I judged by what the king had said that I ought to 
know all about it. 

"'It contains,' replied the queen, 'papers which 
would do the king's cause the greatest harm if they 
ever went the length of bringing a lawsuit against 
him. But the king probably meant me to tell you 
that this same portfolio contains the verbal process of 
a council of State when the king recommended the 
government not to go to war. It was signed by all 
the Ministers ; and in case such a lawsuit were brought 
against him, he thinks this document would be very 
useful.' 

" I asked the queen to whom I ought to confide 
the portfolio. 

" * To whomsoever you like,' she replied, * you 
alone are responsible for it ; do not leave the palace 

158 



A FALSE ALARM 

even when you are not on duty. An occasion may 
arise when we might be very glad to be able to lay 
our hand on it at a moment's notice.' ..." 

Did that portfolio contain duplicates of those letters 
from Mirabeau to his royal master, which, when dis- 
covered in the cupboard, were to prove that to neither 
royal nor plebeian master had the great statesman — 
who might have been so much greater — been faithful ? 

On July 30, Mme Campan was warned at four 
o'clock in the morning that the faubourg Saint- Antoine, 
whose inhabitants are always foremost in any popular 
manifestation, was marching towards the Tuileries 
with the evident intention of repeating the scenes 
enacted in the previous month. Mme Campan im- 
mediately sent two trusty messengers to find out 
whether the royal family were really in danger, after 
which she had all the servants awakened, so that they 
might be ready to defend their mistress. 

" I then crept very quietly into the queen's room," 
writes her waiting- woman ; "I did not awaken her. 
The king and Mme Elisabeth had both risen ; Mme 
Elisabeth was sitting in the queen's room. That 
morning her Majesty, overwhelmed by all her troubles, 
slept, strange to say, until nine o'clock. The king 
came to see if she was awake. I told him what I had 
done, and that I had taken care not to disturb her. 
He thanked me, and said : — 

" * I was awake, as was the whole palace ; she ran 
no risks. It is pleasant to see her resting. Oh ! her 
sorrows increase mine ! ' he added as he left me. 

" What was my grief when the queen, on awaken- 
ing, was informed of what had happened, and began 
to weep bitterly because she had not been called, and 

159 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

blamed me, upon whose friendship she had hoped to 
count, for having served her so ill on such an occasion ! 
. . . It was vain for me to repeat that it had only 
been a false alarm, and that she greatly needed to rest 
her tired nerves. 

•* ' They are not tired ! ' said she, ' misfortunes are 
very good for the nerves. Elisabeth was by the 
king's side, but I was asleep ! — I who long to die by 
his side ! I am his wife ; I do not wish him to be 
exposed to the slightest danger without me.' " 

Meanwhile the inhabitants of the Tuileries were 
preparing for what everybody felt was bound to come, 
sooner or later ; guns and ammunition were stored 
in the lower rooms, while from all sides royalists 
rallied round the king with protestations of fidelity. 
The king received many offers of money about this 
time ; these offers, as the king did not wish to im- 
poverish his subjects, he refused. 

M. Auguie, Mme Campan's brother-in-law, sent 
his wife to the king with a pocket-book containing 
100,000 ^cus, which she begged the king on her knees 
to accept. The queen, who was present at this 
interview, strove to console her servant for the king's 
refusal by telling her that she valued the thought even 
more than the deed. 

In the beginning of August, Mme Campan received 
a visit from M. de La Ferte, the king's steward, who 
brought with him the sum of 1000 livres, which he 
besought her to give to the queen. However, the 
latter refused this offer like all the others she received 
about this time. 

A few days later, Mme Campan was surprised to 
hear the queen remark that she had decided to accept 

160 




Copyrig-ht\by] 



Madame Elisabeth. 

From a painting by Le Brun. 



[Braun 6^ Co. 



THE MAYOR OF PARIS 

part of M. de La Fertd's offer, as Mme Elisabeth had 
discovered a man who had undertaken to purchase 
Petion's goodwill ; in fact, the matter was already so 
far advanced that the price had been fixed — 124,000 
francs — and the mayor of Paris had promised to let the 
king know by signs if his plans succeeded. Mme 
Campan was instructed to accept 24,000 francs from 
M. de La Fert^, and to add to this sum the 100,000 
francs which the queen had entrusted to her care in the 
previous month ; the money was then to be changed 
into assignats in order to increase the value — those 
much-blamed assignats which, according to M. Ernest 
Hamel, "saved France from bankruptcy, helped her 
to triumph over the whole of Europe, and only fell 
into disgrace when the Revolution began to be 
threatened by the reaction." 

It was arranged that the king was to meet Petion. 
Mme Campan does not give the date of the interview, 
but it probably took place at nine o'clock of the night 
of August 9, in the palace of the Tuileries. It was 
said that Potion was not a little nervous as to his own 
safety. 

When the queen, in the presence of Mme Campan, 
asked the king whether the mayor of Paris had seemed 
in a good humour, Louis xvi replied : — 

" Neither more nor less than usual. He did not 
make the promised sign, and I fear I have been 
deceived." 

The queen then turned to her waiting-woman, and 
explained that it had been arranged that Potion was 
to hold his finger under his right eye for two seconds. 

"But," interrupted the king, "he did not even 
touch his chin with his hand ; he has cheated us out 
L i6i 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

of the money ; however, the thief will not dare to 
boast of it, and so the matter will never be known. 
Let us talk of something else." 

After this interview the virtuous Petion retired 
to the gardens of the Tuileries, where he spent two 
or three hours walking up and down the gravel 
walks in close conversation with Roederer and some 
of the members of the Commune. 

Mme Campan, although not on duty during the 
month of August, had, in obedience to the queen's 
request, remained at the Tuileries with two of her 
sisters and a niece during the night of August 9-10. 
Soon after Petion's departure, while the king was giving 
some orders for the morrow, a loud noise was heard 
outside the door of the king's apartments. On going 
to ascertain the reason, Mme Campan beheld two 
sentinels trying to strangle each other — why ? because 
one of them had said that the king would defend the 
Constitution to the last day of his life, whereas the other 
had asserted that the king was only putting obstacles 
in the way of the Constitution, which was necessary 
to a free nation. Mme Campan was still rather upset 
when she returned to the royal family. The king 
having inquired the reason of her agitation, she 
reluctantly related the incident, whereupon Marie 
Antoinette remarked that she, for her part, was not 
at all surprised, as more than half of the king's body- 
guard were Jacobins at heart. 

The hour of midnight was heralded by the ghastly 
tocsin, which continued like a giant banshee to wail 
over Paris until dawn broke. The walls of the palace 
were guarded by the Suisses, who themselves formed 
a second wall of flesh and blood. Mme Campan's 

162 



ROYAL PALACE PREPARES FOR SIEGE 

family was also represented outside the palace, for 
her brother-in-law, M. Rousseau, fought in the section 
of the Filles- Saint-Thomas. 

One historian states that "the palace looked so 
formidable closed in with bayonets, that the populace 
would probably have been completely worsted if all 
the troops which filled the courtyards, gardens, and 
apartments had resolutely determined to defend the 
royal dwelling," More than one of the officers had 
serious doubts as to the issue of the event ; one 
military friend said to Mme Campan : — 

" Fill your pockets with your money and your 
jewels ; we must look danger in the face. The means 
taken to protect the palace are useless ; nothing can 
be done unless the king acts with energy — and that 
is the only virtue he lacks ! " 

An hour later the queen and Mme Elisabeth said 
they would go and rest in a boudoir looking into 
the courtyard of the palace. No sooner did Marie 
Antoinette find herself alone with her sister-in-law and 
her waiting-woman, than she burst into lamentations 
because the king had refused to wear the famous 
waistcoat, a duplicate of which had lately been made, 
giving as his reason that he had consented to wear 
it on July 14, because he then had cause to fear 
the assassin's knife, whereas he now considered it 
cowardice on his part to protect himself when his 
friends were exposing their lives for his sake. While 
the queen was lamenting her husband's obstinacy, 
Mme Elisabeth removed some of her clothes and lay 
down on a sofa. Before taking off her fichu, Marie 
Antoinette showed Mme Campan a cornelian pin 
ornamented with a lily, around which were engraved 

163 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

these words: "Forget offences, forgive injuries," 
adding : — 

" I much fear that our enemies hold this maxim in 
very poor esteem, but we should not value it any the 
less." 

The queen then told her waiting-woman to sit 
beside her. Fears for the safety of her dear ones 
banished sleep. The ladies were talking over their 
plans, when a pistol-shot was heard in the courtyard, 
whereupon they started up in terror, exclaiming : — 

" The first shot has been fired ; it will not be the 
last, unhappily. Let us go to the king." 

So saying, the two princesses hastened out of the 
room, followed by Mme Campan and several of the 
queen's ladies. At four o'clock on the morning of 
August lo, the queen came out of the king's room 
and informed Mme Campan that M. Mandat, a 
fervent royalist, had been assassinated, and that his 
head stuck on a pike was being marched up and 
down the streets of the capital. Mme Campan gives 
the hour as four o'clock, whereas history places the 
time three hours later. 

Only a few hours before this event, this M. 
Mandat had been the subject of a conversation 
between the king and Mme Campan, for the king had 
said to her : — 

" Your father was an intimate friend of M. Mandat, 
who is now at the head of the National Guard. Tell 
me what sort of a man he is ; what can I expect 
of him?" 

To which Mme Campan had replied that M. 
Mandat was one of the king's most loyal subjects, 
but that he was equally devoted to the Constitution, 

164 



MURDER OF MANDAT 

which he had sworn to defend and to fight anybody 
who dared to usurp the royal authority. 

During the fatal night of August 9-10 the 
commissaries, assembled at the Hotel de Ville, had 
summoned Mandat to appear before them and answer 
a charge of having on his own responsibility caused 
the palace of the Tuileries to be fortified. M. Mandat 
replied that he had acted in obedience to Potion's 
commands. While he was still defending himself, a 
letter was produced bearing his signature, in which 
he charged the mayor of Paris to repulse any popular 
attack against the Tuileries with shot and steel. 
Mandat was immediately arrested. While he was 
being conducted down the steps of the Hotel de Ville 
preparatory to being marched off to the prison of the 
Abbaye, he was shot by some person in the crowd. 

"The day broke," writes Mme Campan ; "the 
king, the queen, Mme Elisabeth, Madame, and the 
Dauphin descended in order to review the National 
Guard; some uttered cries of ' Vive le roiV I was 
standing at a window looking over the garden ; I saw 
some gunners leave their post, go up to the king and 
shake their fists in his face, calling him the most 
insulting names. MM. Salvert and de Briges roughly 
pushed them back. The king was pale as death. 
The royal family then re-entered the palace. The 
queen told me that all was at an end, that the king had 
shown no energy whatever, and that this sort of review 
had done more harm than good. I was with my 
companions in the billiard-room ; we sat down on some 
high seats. I then saw M. d'Hervilly, with his naked 
sword in his hand, order the gentleman-usher to open 
to the French nobility. Two hundred persons now 

165 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

entered the room next to that in which the royal family- 
were seated ; the other persons drew up into two rows 
along the corridor. Among the latter I saw many 
courtiers, several unknown faces, and a few persons 
who would have cut but a poor figure among the 
nobility, but whose devotion ennobled them for the 
moment. They were all poorly armed ; their weapons, 
even in this anything but ludicrous situation, aroused 
our inextinguishable French wit, and many were the 
jokes made at their expense. M. de Saint-Souplet, the 
king's equerry, and a page each carried over their 
shoulder, instead of a gun, the half of a pair of tongs 
taken from the king's antechamber, which they had 
broken in two. Another page held in his hand a 
pocket-pistol, the muzzle of which he had rested on 
the back of the person just in front of him, with a 
request that he would be so kind as to hold it 
for him. . . ." 

At eight o'clock in the morning the narrow streets 
leading to the palace of the Tuileries were filled with 
excited volunteers representing all the different sections 
of the capital, and including the Marseillais and the 
federates from Brest. The king was then recom- 
mended by Roederer, to whom the French clergy 
largely owed the fact that they were now forbidden 
to take vows, to shelter with his family in the Club 
des Feuillants, once an old convent, close to the 
Tuileries, where the Assemble was in the habit of 
holding its meetings. 

" There and there only will you and yours be in 
safety," added Roederer, in order to clench the matter. 

While the king was still hesitating whether he 
ought thus to prove that he had ceased to be king 

i66 



THE ROYAL FAMILY ENTER PRISON 

even in name, Mme Elisabeth asked Roederer with 
tears in her eyes : — 

" Will you be responsible for the king's life ? " 

Whereupon Roederer replied : — 

" Yes, I will answer for his life as for my own." 

At first the queen opposed this step ; it was only 
when she was told that if her husband refused to leave 
the Tuileries she and her children would be massacred 
that she consented to go to the Club des Feuillants. 
On leaving the king's study after having given her 
consent, Marie Antoinette said to her faithful waiting- 
woman : — 

"Wait for me in my apartment; I will either join you 
or send for you to come to me, I know not where. . . ." 

Mme Campan's heart was full to overflowing as 
she watched the royal family leave the Tuileries 
between two rows of those brave Swiss soldiers, eight 
hundred of whom were to perish a few hours later, and 
two battalions of the sections of the Petits- Peres 
and the Filles - Saint - Thomas, among whom was 
M. Rousseau, Mme Campan's brother-in-law. The 
spectacle of the royal family going on foot to the 
AssembUe was so novel that crowds flocked to see 
the wonder. During the short walk the queen was 
hustled and jostled by the sight-seers. Much of her 
anguish during the previous night had been caused 
by fears for her son's safety ; these fears were^ re- 
doubled when she beheld a huge man, a familiar 
figure at all the recent popular insurrections, stride 
up to the little Dauphin, whom she was holding 
by the hand, tear him away from his mother's grasp 
and pick him up in his arms ; whereupon the unhappy 
queen uttered a piercing shriek and appeared upon 

167 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the point of swooning. But the giant said not un- 
kindly : ** Don't be afraid — I don't want to hurt him." 
And indeed he carried the child most carefully 
and restored him to his mother's arms as soon as the 
refugees had entered the hall of the AssembUe. When 
Marie Antoinette had recovered from her fright, and 
again clasped her precious child in her arms, she 
discovered that somebody in the crowd had profited by 
her terror, and had relieved her of her watch and purse. 
Louis xvi's first words on entering the hall of the 
AssembUe were : — 

" I have come in order to prevent a great crime ! " 
to which remark Vergniaud replied : — 

" You can count, Sire, upon the firm conduct of 
the AssembUe nationaU ; its members have sworn to 
die for the rights of the people, and to maintain the 
authority of the Constitution." 

No sooner had the royal family left the Tuileries 
than the siege began. Nobody knew who first opened 
fire. For two hours the Swiss Guards, numbering 
one thousand, repulsed the assailants, who were un- 
aware of the king's departure for the AssembUe. The 
Swiss were holding their own when Louis xvi sent 
word that they were to cease firing. They obeyed, 
though by so doing they signed their own death- 
warrant. A horrible man-hunt now began along the 
corridors of the palace. The brave Swiss, together 
with many members of the French nobility, were cut 
to pieces, their bodies thrown out of the windows, 
and their heads placed on pikes and paraded before 
the AssembUe. One heroic fellow. Diet by name, was 
found on guard outside the queen's bedroom ; he 
bared his breast to the assassins' knives, crying : — 

i68 



" SPARE THE WOMEN ! " 

** I do not wish to live any longer. This is my 
post, and it is my duty to die here, at the door of the 
queen's bedroom ! " 

Mme Campan gives a graphic description of her 
own experiences in her memoirs : — 

" Luckily the princesse de Tarente had caused 
the door of the queen's private apartments to be 
opened ; had she not done this, the horrible band, on 
seeing several women huddled together in the queen's 
salon, would have thought that she was still there, 
and would have immediately massacred us if their fury 
had been increased by resistance. Nevertheless, we 
were all on the point of perishing when a man with a 
long beard entered crying out that Petion had given 
the following orders : * Spare the women ! do not 
dishonour the nation ! ' One particular incident 
exposed me to more danger than my companions. 
In my anguish and grief I imagined, just before the 
assailants entered the queen's room, that my sister 
had left the little group of women, so I hurried up- 
stairs to an entresol, where I supposed she had taken 
refuge, meaning to persuade her to come down, as 
I fancied that we should be safer if we all kept to- 
gether. I did not find her there, however ; I only 
saw our two serving-maids and one of the queen's 
heiduques, a very tall, soldierly -looking man. He was 
seated on the edge of the bed, and was very pale. I 
cried to him : ' Save yourself ! the footmen and our 
own people have already done so!' He replied: 'I 
cannot — I am literally dying of fear.' While he was 
still speaking, I heard a band of men hurrying up the 
stairs ; they flung themselves upon him — I saw them 
murder him. ... I rushed towards the staircase, 

169 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

followed by the serving-maids. The assassins left the 
heidttque in order to run after me. The women flung 
themselves at their feet and clasped their swords. The 
staircase was so narrow that the assassins were much 
impeded in their movements ; however, I already felt a 
horrible hand on my back, clutching at my clothes, 
when somebody at the foot of the stairs called out : — 

" ' What are you doing up there ? ' 

" The horrible Marseillais, who was just on the 
point of murdering me, replied with a hein which I 
shall never forget as long as I live. The other voice 
then remarked : — 

*• ' We do not kill women ! ' 

" I had fallen on my knees ; my tormentor let me 
go, saying :— 

" * Get up, you hussy ! the nation pardons you.' 

" This coarse remark did not prevent me suddenly 
experiencing an inexpressible feeling, almost akin to 
ecstasy, at the thought that I should see my son and 
all my dear ones again. Only a second before, I had 
been less concerned at the thought of death than at 
the pain which the weapon suspended above my head 
would doubtless have caused me. One seldom sees 
death so near without enduring it. I can testify that 
the organs of sight and hearing, when one does not 
swoon, are keenly sensitive, and that I heard every 
word uttered by the assassins as clearly as if I had 
been quite calm. 

" Five or six men seized me and the women, and, 
having made us get upon some benches placed beneath 
the windows, ordered us to cry : * Long live the nation ! ' 

" I stepped over several dead bodies. I recog- 
nised the corpse of the old vicomte de B roves, to whom 

170 



A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE 

the queen, earlier in the previous night, had sent me 
to command him, as well as another old gentleman, 
to return to their homes. These brave fellows had 
begged me to tell her Majesty that they had always 
obeyed the king's commands in circumstances when 
they had had to risk their lives in order to protect him, 
but that this time they could not obey, and would only 
remember the queen's kindness. 

"When we were near the gate by the riverside, 
the men who were leading me asked we where I 
wanted to go ; one of them, a Marseillais, giving me 
a push with the butt end of his musket, inquired 
whether I still had any doubts as to the people's power ? 
I replied : ' No ! ' and then told him the number of my 
brother-in-law's house. I saw my sister ascending 
the steps of the bridge, surrounded by National Guards. 
I called to her ; she turned round. 

" * Do you want her to come to you ?' asked my 
guardians. 

" I told them that I should like her to do so. They 
hailed the men who were conducting my sister to 
prison ; she came to me. Our walk from the palace 
to my sister's house was most terrible. We saw 
several Swiss, who were fleeing, killed in cold blood ; 
we heard pistol-shots on all sides. We passed under 
the walls of the gallery of the Louvre ; people stand- 
ing on the parapet shot at the windows of the gallery, 
endeavouring to kill the chevaliers du poig^iard^ as 
the people called the king's faithful subjects who had 
assembled at the Tuileries in order to protect his person. 

^ On February 28, 1791, Lafayette had hunted from the palace of the 
Tuileries 300 gentlemen who had flocked thither, armed with daggersi 
in order to protect their king, hence their name chevaliers du poignard. 

171 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

The brigands had smashed the drinking-vessels in the 
queen's first anteroom ; the hems of our white dresses 
were stained with the blood-tinged water. The fish- 
wives called out after us in the streets that we belonoed 
to the Autrichienne s household. Our guardians then 
showed us more consideration, and made us enter a 
courtyard so that we might take off our skirts ; how- 
ever, our petticoats were so short that we looked as if 
we had tried to disguise ourselves ; and then some 
other fishwives began to cry out that we were young 
Swiss Guards dressed in women's clothes. We beheld 
a swarm of cannibals carrying poor Mandat's head 
coming up the street. Our guards made us hastily 
enter a little tavern, asked for wine, and told us to 
drink with them. They assured the hostess that we 
were the sisters of good patriots. Luckily the Mar- 
seillais had left us in order to return to the Tuileries. 
One of the men who had remained with us, said to me 
under his breath : — 

"*I am a gauze-manufacturer in xh^ faubourg \ I 
was forced to join these men. I do not belong to 
them. I have murdered nobody, but I have saved 
your life. You were in great danger when we met 
those frenzied women carrying Mandat's head. Yester- 
day at midnight those horrible harpies declared on the 
Place de la Bastille that they would have their revenge 
for the scenes enacted at Versailles on October 6 ; and 
they swore to kill the queen and all her faithful women 
with their own hands.'" 

Mme Campan was then allowed to go to the house 
of her sister, Mme Auguid, whose husband was in 
despair because he firmly believed that his wife and 
sister-in-law had shared the fate of the unhappy Swiss 

172 



A FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED 

Guards ; however, here Mme Campan could not stay, 
for a crowd of revolutionists had already assembled 
in the street outside the house, and were crying that 
Marie Antoinette's confidential waiting-woman was in 
there and they would have her head. While crossing 
the Carrousel, Mme Campan had seen her own house 
in flames ; she was now told that everything she 
possessed had either been burnt or stolen, so she was 
absolutely without any clothes except what she had 
on her back. Mme Auguie lent her some of her 
own maid's clothes-, and thus attired the unfortunate 
waiting-woman slipped out of the house, and went to 
the abode of M. Morel, the administrator of the public 
lotteries, where she spent the night. On the morrow 
a royalist deputy brought her a message from the queen, 
begging her to come to the Feuillants, where the royal 
family were still prisoners. 

Mme Campan, Mme Auguie, and a friend, Mme 
Thibaut, having disguised themselves, set off for the 
Feuillants, where they arrived at the same time as the 
king's chief footman, Thierry. Before being ushered 
into the queen's presence, the visitors were made to 
write their names and addresses in a register, after 
which they were given cards of admittance to the 
rooms belonging to Camus, where the king and his 
family were tasting the bread of sorrow. 

On entering the first room, Mme Campan was 
greeted by this flattering remark uttered by an un- 
known person : — 

" Ah ! you are a good woman ; but where is 
that fellow Thierry, whose master loaded him with 
benefits ? " 

To which question, Mme Campan replied : — 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" Here he is ; he is just behind me ! I perceive 
that even the spectre of death is powerless to banish 
jealousy from this place ! " 

So saying, she hurried down a passage leading to 
the king's prison, before reaching which she had to 
pass in front of several grenadiers, two or three of 
whom called her by her name. One said : — 

" Ah ! well — so the poor king's done for ! The 
comte d'Artois wouldn't have let himself be caught so 
easily ! " 

" No, that he wouldn't ! " another replied. 

The meeting between the king and his wife's faith- 
ful servants was most painful. The royal prisoner 
was having his hair cut ; he took two locks and gave 
one to Mme Campan, and the other to Mme Auguie ; 
when the latter endeavoured to kiss his hand, he cried 
*' No ! no ! " and folded first one and then the other 
faithful creature in his arms, and kissed them without 
being able to utter another word. 

Mme Campan and her sister then went into the 
adjoining cell, the walls of which were covered with 
a hideous green paper. Here they found the queen, 
sick from grief and anxiety, lying in bed, with a rough 
but good-natured-looking female in attendance. The 
queen, on seeing the two weeping visitors standing in 
in the doorway, held out her arms towards them, 
crying : — 

" Come ! come ! oh ! unhappy women, come in and 
see a woman who is even more to be pitied than you, 
because it is her fault that you are all so unhappy ! 
We are lost ; three years of the most detestable out- 
rages have brought us here. We shall succumb to 
this horrible revolution ; many others will perish after 

174 



TWO INNOCENT VICTIMS 

us. Everybody has had a hand in our ruin — both 
innovators and lunatics, ambitious persons anxious to 
make their fortunes — for the most rabid Jacobins only 
wanted gold and preferment. The populace is wait- 
ing to pillage. There is not a single patriot in the 
whole infamous horde ; the emigres had their cabals 
and plots ! The foreigners wanted to profit by 
France's dissensions ; everybody has helped to bring 
about our misfortunes ! " 

While the queen was still lamenting her fate, Mme 
de Tourzel entered the room with those most innocent 
victims, the little Dauphin and Madame Royale, 
whereupon the queen burst forth into renewed 
lamentations. 

" Poor children ! " cried she, " how cruel it is not 
to be able to leave them this fair heritage, and to be 
obliged to say : ' All this finishes with us ' ! . . ." 

The queen displayed much concern on learning 
of the dangers to which her faithful friend had been 
exposed on her account, and lamented the fact that 
that friend was now without a roof over her head ; to 
which Mme Campan replied that such a trifling 
accident was unworthy of her Majesty's attention. 
Marie Antoinette also expressed deep interest in the 
fate of those of her ladies whom she had left at the 
Tuileries, and especially for the princesse de Tarente, 
Mme de La Roche Aymon, that princess's daughter, 
and the duchesse de Luynes, of whom she said : " She 
was one of the first women to be seized with enthusiasm 
for this wretched new-fangled philosophy ; but her kind 
heart soon got the better of her head, and latterly I 
found in her the friend of old days." 

These words in those last weeks of the Reign of 

175 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Terror, when the humbly born Mme Campan and the 
aristocratic duchesse de Luynes were both in hiding 
at Coubertin, proved of much consolation to the latter ; 
while mingling her tears with the faithful Campan, 
she would often exclaim : "I frequently feel the need 
of hearing you repeat the queen's words." 

When Mme Campan asked Marie Antoinette 
whether the foreign ambassadors were doing anything 
to help her, the queen replied that their hands were 
tied, but that the wife^ of the English ambassador had 
been so good as to send some clothes belonging to her 
own son for the use of the little Dauphin, who was 
about the same age and height. During this conversa- 
tion Mme Campan bethoughtherself of some important 
papers bearing the queen's signature which, while her 
house was burning, had been thrown into the gutter 
where any unscrupulous person might find them and 
use them against her mistress. On imparting her fears 
to the queen, the latter became quite as anxious as her 
friend, and told her to go to the ComiU de sureU 
gendrale and make a declaration. 

Mme Campan hurried off to the Comity, where she 
was received by a deputy whose name she did not 
know, who, after listening to her story, dismissed her 
with this remark : — 

" I cannot receive your declaration. Marie 
Antoinette is nothing but a woman, like all other 
French women ; if anything happens to any of the 
papers bearing her signature, she can protest." 

The rebuff made the queen bitterly regret that she 
had exposed herself to fresh attacks from her enemies ; 
she burst into tears, exclaiming : — 

^ This kind-hearted woman was the Duchess of Sutherland. 
176 



THE QUEEN REQUESTS A LOAN 

" It is all over with us ; it is in their power to ruin 
us ! " 

Years after, Mme Campan told her friends that 
she had never forgotten the day when she saw the 
queen, lying in bed in the mean room at the Feuil- 
lants, with its hideous green wall-paper, and shabby 
furniture, shed tears for the last time. 

The queen, as already stated, had been relieved of 
her watch and purse while walking to the Feuillants, 
so she begged Mme Auguie to lend her twenty-five 
louis, which that lady did, and thereby signed her 
own death-warrant, and placed the life of her sister 
in jeopardy ; for the queen, on being questioned 
during her trial concerning the money found on her 
person, confessed that it was a loan from Mme 
Augui^. 

Before bidding farewell to Mme Campan, Marie 
Antoinette made her promise to follow her wherever 
she went or was sent, and added that she was going 
to ask Potion to let them be together. 

As night was falling, Mme Campan, leaving her 
sister with the queen, went back to the house of her 
brother-in-law, M. Auguie, who himself was later 
thrown into prison, in order to make arrangements 
for her son's safety, and to prepare to be ready to 
obey the queen's summons. But when on the follow- 
ing morning she presented herself at the Feuillants 
with M. Valadon, for whom she had once been instru- 
mental in obtaining a post, and begged to be allowed 
to see her Majesty, she was denied entrance, as Marie 
Antoinette "already had enough women-folk about 
her." 

On August 13, Mme Campan learnt that the 
M 177 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

royal family had been removed to their second prison, 
the Temple. 

Mme Auguie was not allowed to accompany her 
mistress, but was detained at the Feuillants for another 
twenty-four hours. 

Mme Campan's only thought now was to share 
her mistress's captivity ; she therefore went, still 
accompanied by M. Valadon, to see the then all- 
powerful Potion. M. Valadon was first ushered into 
the presence of the mayor of Paris. When, after 
having represented that Mme Campan only asked to 
be allowed to share her mistress's captivity, M. Vala- 
don remarked that she ought not to be suspected of 
evil designs, and that nobody could possibly blame 
her for her devotion, Petion, who later voted for the 
execution of his royal prisoner, Louis xvi, said : — 

" Let her console herself for not being allowed to 
go to the Temple with the knowledge that those who 
are on duty there do not remain very long." 

Thinking that she could succeed where her deputy 
had failed, Mme Campan forced her way into Potion's 
study, whereupon the latter, exasperated by her 
importunity, repeated what he had alrealy said to M. 
Valadon, adding that if she worried him any more he 
should send her to the prison of La Force. Two or 
three days later the princesse de Lamballe, Mme de 
Tourzel and her little daughter Pauline, MM. de 
Chamilly and Hue, were removed from the Temple 
in the middle of the night and transferred to that 
prison. In future Mme Campan could only obtain 
information of her mistress from newspapers or from 
the National Guards, some of whom were more 
loquacious than their companions. 

178 



CHAPTER IX 

Doubts are expressed concerning the decease of M. Campan plre — A 
dangerous trust — Mme Campan goes to Versailles — The king's 
female armourer threatens to turn informant — Trial and execution 
of Louis XVI — Marie Antoinette follows her husband — An order 
is issued for the arrest of Mme Campan and her sister — Mme 
Auguid commits suicide — Mme Campan takes her motherless 
nieces to live with her. 

Mme Campan's devotion to the royal prisoners in the 
Temple was too well known for her to escape 
suspicion. The Tuileries had been carefully searched 
after the departure of their owners and many import- 
ant documents, including a letter from the comte 
d'Artois to the king, evidently only one of many, had 
been discovered in the fatal iron cupboard. Now 
Robespierre was aware of the fact that Mme Campan's 
late father-in-law had enjoyed the king's entire con- 
fidence. What was more natural than to suppose that 
the unfortunate sovereign had entrusted other import- 
ant papers to his old servitor on the approach of the 
storm ? But Robespierre was much mistaken when 
he took it into his head to imagine that M. Campan 
pere was not really dead, but was in hiding some- 
where in order to escape being obliged to answer any 
inconvenient questions concerning the said papers. 
So convinced was the Incorruptible that, on meeting 
the former tutor of Mme Campan's son in the street, 
he requested that gentleman to tell him on his honour 

179 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

if his late pupil's grandfather was really dead or 
not, to which the tutor replied that he was quite 
certain that M. Campan/^r^ had died in the previous 
year at La Briche because he had been a mourner at 
his funeral, which had taken place in the cemetry of 
Epinay. Still unconvinced, Robespierre said : — 

"Well, then, bring me the certificate of his death 
to-morrow morning — it is most important." 

The tutor then hastened to Mme Campan and 
told her of the meeting ; like a prudent woman she 
took care to send the necessary certificate to the 
Incorruptible before the hour mentioned. But she 
felt that the danger was growing nearer, and she 
realized that the discovery of the portfolio confided to 
her care by the king in the previous month of July, 
would lead to her own imprisonment. So with many 
misgivings she gave the precious trust into the hands 
of M. Gougenot, the king's steward, and at that time 
as anxious to serve his unfortunate master as herself. 

On August 29 her brother-in-law's servants in- 
formed her that his house, like those of his neighbours, 
was about to be searched by fifty armed men ; and 
indeed during the following night domiciliary visits 
took place all over Paris by order of the Assemble, 
when two thousand guns were seized and nearly three 
thousand persons arrested — most of the latter, how- 
ever, were released on the morrow. 

Mme Campan had scarcely time to congratulate 
herself upon the fact that the searchers would find 
nothing worth taking in her brother-in-law's house, 
when M. Gougenot rushed into the room where she 
was sitting, divested himself of the heavy coat which 
he was wearing, although it was oppressively hot 

180 



A DOMICILIARY VISIT 

weather, and flung a voluminous packet at her feet 
with these words : — 

** Here is the portfolio ; as I did not receive it 
from the king's hands, I shall only be doing my duty 
if I give it back to you," having said which he 
hastened towards the door. 

Mme Campan, nearly speechless with terror, 
managed to articulate a prayer that, even if he would 
not or could not keep the precious object, he would 
help her to find a safe hiding-place. 

But the erstwhile royalist seemed to have lost his 
head with terror ; he swore that he could do nothing 
in the matter, and would not so much as listen to 
Mme Campan's proposals. 

" I told him," she writes, " that the house was 
about to be searched ; I confided to him what the 
queen had told me concerning the contents of the 
portfolio, to all of which he only said : — 

*' * Come, make up your mind, I won't have any- 
thing to do with the matter ! ' 

" I then paused for a few seconds deep in thought, 
after which I began to stride up and down the room, 
repeating my thoughts aloud, although I was unaware 
of the fact. The unfortunate Gougenot seemed as if 
turned to stone. 

" * Yes,' said I, * when one can no longer com- 
municate with one's king and receive his commands, 
no matter how loyal one may be, one can only serve 
him by using one's own judgment. The queen told 
me : " This portfolio may fall into the hands of the 
revolutionists." She also mentioned that it contained 
a document which might be useful should a lawsuit be 
brought against the king. It is my duty to interpret 

i8i 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

her words for myself, and to consider them as a com- 
mand. Her meaning was thus : " You are to save a 
certain paper and destroy the others if there is any 
danger of the portfolio being taken from you." That 
was enough ; she did not need to furnish me with any 
details concerning the contents of the portfolio, the 
order to keep it carefully sufficed. It probably still 
contains letters from the dmigrds ; all plans and 
arrangements are now useless, and the events of 
August lo and the king's imprisonment have severed 
the chain of political scruples. This house is about 
to be searched. I cannot hide such a voluminous 
package ; by imprudently keeping it, I might cause 
the king's ruin. Let us open the portfolio ; let us 
save the most important document and destroy all the 
others.' 

** So saying I seized a knife and cut open the sides 
of the portfolio, when I beheld a number of envelopes 
addressed in the king's own handwriting. M. 
Gougenot likewise found the king's private seals, 
such as they were before the AssembUe forced him to 
change the inscription. Just at that minute we heard 
a loud noise. M. Gougenot now consented to fasten 
the portfolio, to hide it under his greatcoat and go to 
whatever place I considered safe. He made me swear 
by all I held most sacred that I would maintain on 
every occasion that I had acted of my own free will, 
and that, no matter what happened, I would assume 
the responsibility, be it praise or blame. I held up 
my hand and took the oath required of me, whereupon 
he left the room. Half an hour later the house was 
invaded by several armed men ; sentries were placed 
at all the doors, all writing-tables and cupboards of 

182 



INCRIMINATING PAPERS 

which the keys were missing were forced open ; the 
vases and flower-boxes in the garden were examined ; 
the cellars were searched. The ring-leader cried 
repeatedly : — 

** * Look very carefully for any papers ! * 
" M. Gougenot returned during the following after- 
noon ; he still had the seals concealed on his person. 
He brought me an account of all the papers he had 
burnt. The portfolio had contained letters from 
Monsieur, the comte d'Artois, Madame Addaide, 
Madame Victoire, the comte de Lameth, M. de 
Malesherbes, M. de Montmorin, and very many from 
Mirabeau ; a verbal process bearing the Ministers' 
signatures, which the king considered very valuable 
because it proved that war had been declared against 
his wishes ; the copy of a letter written by the king to 
his brothers asking them to return to France ; a list 
of the diamonds sent by the queen to Brussels (the 
two last documents were in my own handwriting) ; and 
a receipt for 400,000 francs signed by a well-known 
banker, representing part of the sum of 800,000 francs 
which the queen had saved during her reign out of 
her yearly allowance of 300,000 francs, and the present 
of 100,000 dcus received by her on the birth of the 
Dauphin. ..." 

After some discussion Mme Campan and her 
visitor decided that the verbal process and the receipt 
had better be kept, as the first could do the royal 
cause no harm ; the second was perhaps more 
dangerous, as people would be sure to blame the 
ex-queen for saving money for her own use at a time 
when famine was stalking through the land of France. 
The seals, about which the queen had been very 

183 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

anxious, probably because she still hoped that the 
king would recover his lost authority, were thrown 
by M. Gougenot into the Seine, one from the Pont- 
Neuf and the other from the Pont- Royal. One 
wonders whether by some strange accident the river 
will ever give up those relics of a dead monarchy. 

As is often the case when one has been obliged to 
act on one's own responsibility, poor Mme Campan 
had no sooner got, rid of the compromising portfolio 
than she was tormented with fear lest she should have 
acted contrary to her royal master's wishes. 

Realizing that there was but little chance of being 
able to serve her king or queen, Mme Campan now 
left Paris and went to Versailles. To add to her 
troubles she began to have daily visits from a poor 
seamstress who had been employed to make the 
famous waistcoat and belt worn by the king on the 
anniversary of the taking of the Bastille, and who, 
although really attached to the royal cause, had got 
an idea into her head that she, her husband, and her 
children would be surely murdered if she did not go to 
the AssembUe and confess her crirne of high treason 
against the nation. For a whole fortnight the poor 
demented creature appeared punctually every morning 
while Mme Campan was still in bed, and renewed her 
assertions that, as she did not wish to be beggared, she 
was " going off to Paris this very minute " to denounce 
herself. It required the greatest tact on Mme 
Campan's part to convince the woman that she " had 
only acted on the orders of somebody else, that nobody 
would ever know anything about the matter unless 
she herself mentioned it, and in that case the unhappy 
king would be the first person to suffer because the 

184 



M. GOUGENOT RECOVERS FROM ALARM 

waistcoat had been made at his command, then it 
would be Mme Campan's turn to suffer because she 
had superintended the work, while the seamstress 
would be excused as having only obeyed orders." 

The seamstress, appeased for a few hours, would 
then go away, but she never failed to reappear on the 
morrow with some new tale of having seen the Virgin 
Mary in her dreams, and of having been told by her 
celestial visitor that nobody had the right to sacrifice 
their husband and their children for any human being 
whatsoever. Luckily these visions ceased at the end of 
a fortnight, whereupon the poor creature became calmer 
and no longer paid Mme Campan any surprise visits. 
The month of December 1792 saw the much- 
talked-of trial of Louis xvi. Mme Campan, from her 
refuge at Versailles, read the newspapers with anguish 
in her heart. She sent a trusty messenger to M. 
Gougenot, who was still in Paris, begging him to come 
and see her at Versailles, as she was most anxious for 
the king to hear what she had done with the precious 
portfolio. This request M. Gougenot, having re- 
covered from his fright, consented to grant ; together 
they agreed that M. Gougenot was to have an inter- 
view with M. de Malesherbes, chosen by the king 
from among a number of people, including one woman, 
Olympe de Gouges, who had offered to defend him. 

During this interview, which took place in M. de 
Malesherbes' own house, M. Gougenot informed the 
worthy Minister what Mme Campan had done with 
the contents of the portfolio, and gave him the verbal 
process which she rightly judged to be the most 
valuable paper, hoping that it would serve to prove 
the king's innocence of any crime of treason against 

i8s 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the nation. When Louis xvi heard what the faithful 
Campan had done, he said to M. de Malesherbes : — 

" Tell Mme Campan that she has acted exactly as 
I had ordered her to act, and I thank her for having 
done so. She is among those persons whose fidelity 
and whose services I regret I cannot reward." 

The story of the trial of Louis xvi is too well 
known to need repetition here. With the exception 
of an untruth, the denial of any knowledge of the 
existence of the iron cupboard, the king behaved 
throughout with much dignity ; even his adversaries 
were constrained to confess that he conducted himself 
during those days of anguish with '* becoming 
humility." 

When, on the morrow of his execution, Mme 
Campan learnt that her kind master had gone to 
be judged by that other Judge who will surely be 
more merciful than his Ministers on earth, she 
wrote : — 

" I think I should have died of despair if I had 
not found some consolation in the recollection of all 
his kindness to me. ..." 

Two days after the king's execution, Mme Campan's 
brother, M. Genest, who had been appointed by the 
Girondins to represent France in the United States, 
and who, on the fall of that party after the September 
massacres, had been recalled to his native land to give 
an account of his deeds and words — and probably lose 
his head — left France, never again to return, and went 
back to America, which in those days was indeed " the 
land of the free." A few days after his departure,^ 

^ On reaching America, M. Genest received a warm welcome from 
an old friend, Mr. Clinton, the then Governor of New York, and later 

1 86 




Co/<y7is''l h'] VBrann &r Co. 

Marie Antoinette and her Children. 



From a painting b)' Le Brun. 



EDMOND GENEST GOES TO AMERICA 

the AssembUe nationale took it into its head that 
M. Genest had returned to his native land and was in 
hiding in Brest. Now it happened that Mme Campan 
was spending the day in Paris with her companion, 
Mme Voisin, when she heard two newsvendors 
bawling out: "The arrival in Brest of M. Genest, 
Minister of the Republic to the United States ; this 
Minister will immediately make the perilous ascent of 
the guillotine ! " This news was a great shock to 
Mme Campan, who believed — and with reason — that 
her brother was on his way to America ; she fainted. 
Mme Voisin, with the help of two or three compas- 
sionate bystanders, carried her into a shop, where 
restoratives were applied and she soon recovered 
consciousness. 

In the spring of 1793, Mme Campan first paid a 
brief visit to Beauplan, and then moved to the Chateau 
of Coubertin, a mile distant, which she and the 
Auguie family hired ; it was while she was here that 
she heard that Marie Antoinette had been deprived 
of her son, a far more cruel punishment than the 
sentence of death passed upon the Niobe of the French 
Revolution in the following October. 

" Marie Antoinette showed much firmness and 
dignity," writes M. Ernest Hamel, who cannot be 
accused of excessive sympathy with the royal cause. 
" She listened to her sentence with perfect calmness," 
says another historian. 

vice-president of the United States, who sheltered him in his home and 
finally accepted him as his son-in-law. M. Genest became an American 
citizen and settled in the State of New York, where he devoted himself 
to farming. After the death of his first wife, he married a daughter of 
Samuel Osgood, postmaster-general under Washington. Mr. Genet, as 
he now called himself, died at Greenbush in 1834. 

187 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

Who, remembering the arrogant, extravagant 
Marie Antoinette, so careless of her good name in the 
days of the Petit Trianon, would have believed her 
capable of bearing her burden of grief with such 
fortitude ? Alas, poor human nature ! it would seem 
as if some great trial or sorrow were often required to 
bring out our good qualities— the little worries, tempta- 
tions, and disappointments of daily life are too much 
for most of us. 

When questioned during her trial as to the sum of 
twenty-five louis found on her person, Marie Antoinette 
imprudently said that Mme Auguie had lent it to her 
after her purse and watch had been stolen during that 
calvaire from the Tuileries to the Feuillants, and 
begged that the money might be repaid to her faithful 
"lioness," as she had called Mme Augui^ ever since 
the terrible events of October 6, 1789, when Mme 
Campan 's sister had saved her mistress's life by her 
courage and promptitude. 

An order for the arrest of that lady was immedi- 
ately signed. 

Now, Mme Auguie, more lucky than most of 
the victims of the Reign of Terror, had a friend in the 
person of the secretary to the revolutionary tribunal ; 
this gentleman wisely destroyed the document and, in 
order to ensure Mme Auguie's safety, inscribed a 
fictitious name, that of Augal, on the list of captives 
in the Paris prisons. 

For several months Mme Campan and the Auguie 
family, consisting of M. and Mme Auguie and their three 
daughters, continued to live unmolested at Coubertin. 
The news of Marie Antoinette's execution, although 
expected, completely crushed her faithful waiting- 

188 



MME CAMPAN IS ARRESTED 

women for a time. But their grief and despair was 
changed to anxiety for their own safety when, nine 
months after their mistress's death, "an atrocious man 
of quaHty," as Mme Campan quaintly puts it, wishing 
to be held in consideration by Robespierre, wrote to 
the Comitd de Salut public : — 

" I have been through all the prisons in Paris ; I 
am astonished not to find the name of Mme Augui6, 
designated erroneously during Marie Antoinette's 
trial as Mme Augal ; she and her sister ought to have 
been thrown into prison long ago." 

It frequently happened that the victims of the 
Terrorists were able to slip through the fingers of 
their would-be executioners ; but it seldom happened 
that they were able to free themselves a second time 
from the meshes of that far-reaching system of denunci- 
ation which was the keystone of the Reign of Terror. 

Four soldiers were immediately despatched to 
Coubertin. 

Mme Campan and her brother-in-law offered no 
resistance, but it was otherwise with Mme Auguie ; it 
is probable that like many another horrified spectator 
of the Revolution she, on learning that she was about 
to be arrested, became insane ; mad with terror, she 
jumped upon an ass and fled across the fields till she 
reached Paris, where she hid herself in a small furnished 
room. But even here she did not feel in safety. 
Having written the following despairing message to 
her family : — 

*' If I perish on the scaffold, my husband, already 
a prisoner, will also die ; our property will be confis- 
cated. . . . My daughters, what will become of you ? 
If I can escape death on the scaffold, perhaps I can 

189 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

save my own property for you," she rushed to the 
window and flung herself down into the street below, 
crying as she did so : — 

*' Never shall the executioners lay a finger on me." 
Had the poor creature waited a few days she 
would have seen her husband and sister released from 
prison by the execution of Robespierre. Her eldest 
daughter Antoinette nearly died of grief on learning 
of her mother's suicide ; after her father's return to 
Coubertin, it was decided that she was to reside in 
Paris with him, while her two sisters, EgM and Adele, 
were to go to Saint-Germain ^ with their aunt, Mme 
Campan, who in future was to act the mother to them 
as well as to many other motherless little ones. 

' Georgette Ducrest in her memoirs asserts that Mme Campan went 
immediately after Robespierre's death to stay at Poissy, where she was 
the guest of a Creole, Mme Hortense Lamothe, who was sheltering at the 
same time Mme de Beauharnais, a Creole like herself, and the future 
Empress Josephine, and Claire de Vergennes, the daughter of Louis 
xvi's late Minister. However, Mme Campan does not mention this visit 
in her own memoirs. 



190 



SECOND PART 

THE GOVERNESS OF THE BONAPARTES 

CHAPTER X 

Mme Campan realizes her vocation and opens a school — She is perse- 
cuted by the Directoire — Maman Campan earns her title and the 
affection of her pupils — The Seminary at Montagne de Bon-Air has 
many imitators — Hortense and Emilie de Beauharnais, Pauline and 
Caroline Bonaparte, join the school — Pauline marries General 
Leclerc — Napoleon the match-maker. 

Mme Campan, deprived of the greater part of her 
fortune, with a sick husband burdened by 30,000 francs 
of debts, a mother who had reached the allotted span 
of human life, a son still too young to go out into the 
world to fight for himself, three motherless nieces and 
several other affectionate but penniless relatives, was 
now face to face with a huge problem — how was she 
to support all these helpless creatures ? Her first care 
was to pay off her husband's debts ; this done, she 
found herself possessed of exactly one assignat, worth 
500 francs, /d?2^r tout potage. But there is a fund of 
energy in Frenchwomen which forbids them, when in 
trouble, to sit down, seek comfort in tears, and wait for 
somebody to help them. No, Mme Campan had 
looked death in the face ; she was now ready to face 
poverty, and was determined not to be worsted without 
a severe struggle. 

During those anxious months in hiding at 

191 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Coubertin she had tried her hand at teaching her son 
and her nieces, and the result had been so successful 
that she had resolved to adopt the profession of school- 
rgistress should she ever be forced to earn her daily 
bread. Exactly one month after the death of Robes- 
pierre, she, having taken the old Hotel de Rohan at 
Saint-Germain, a huge place with a beautiful garden 
situated in the rue de Poissy on the edge of the forest, 
which place she chose on account of its fine air, wrote 
in her best hand (as she was too poor to pay any 
printer's bills) one hundred prospectuses, which she 
then sent to those of her friends who had been lucky 
enough to pass unscathed through the fires of the 
Revolution. She would have preferred Versailles as 
her future home ; but she could not face the ghosts of 
the happy past which even to-day haunt that pleasant 
town. In order to convince her friends that she still 
belonged to the old school and respected the rules of 
religion and good society, she, on opening her 
seminary, engaged a nun belonging to the sisterhood 
of the Enfant Jdsus, and waited for the pupils who 
soon came, few in number at first, it is true, but ever 
more numerous as the weeks passed. 

M. Frederic Masson says rather unkindly : " It 
was a singularly happy thought on Mme Campan's 
part when she set up a boarding-school at the 
Montagne de Bon-Air, ci-devant Saint-Germain-en- 
Laye, and summoned her nieces, the demoiselles 
Auguie, to make a show and play the part of the 
boarders who failed to put in an appearance." 

In the following year Mme Campan found that her 
pupils had increased to sixty. The fact that she had 
been waiting-woman to Marie Antoinette had much 

192 



MAMAN CAMPAN 

to do with her success ; but, whereas many mothers 
were proud to send their daughters to learn from her 
who was in future to be known as Maman Campan 
the courtly manners which had once reigned at 
Versailles, the mistress of the young ladies' boarding- 
school at Montagne de Bon-Air found herself the 
object of much suspicion to those wise persons who 
did not wish to see the frivolous doings at Trianon 
imitated in the drawing-rooms of the new France. 
The studies at her establishment were subjected to 
rigorous supervision by the Government ; she was 
not allowed to teach French history to her little pupils, 
Greek and Roman history being considered quite 
sufficient for the future mothers of good citoyens. 

Mme Campan was the first woman who dared to 
have a chapel in the grounds of her establishment ; in 
the following year the Directoire learnt of the fact, and 
sent word that it must be closed at once ; of course she 
had to obey. 

It is true that Maman Campan taught the Bible 
during certain days of the week, but not a day passed 
that she did not expect to see the Holy Book confis- 
cated. Her fears were realized one day when she 
was surprised with the Book in her hand by several 
officials, who immediately ordered her to cease teaching 
her pupils "fables and superstitions." When Mme 
Campan, nothing daunted, asked her visitors what she 
was to teach " her children " in place of religion, they 
replied : — 

" Citoyenne, your arguments are quite out of date. 
Don't make remarks : when the nation speaks it 
expects obedience, not wit." 

Familiarity with danger is apt to breed contempt. 
N 193 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Mme Cam pan, wishing to keep the memory of her 
beloved mistress fresh in the minds of the younger 
generation, invented an ingenious picture-frame, one 
side of which displayed the Rights of Man, while from 
the other the fair, proud face of the dead queen gazed 
down on the busy children. Marie Antoinette usually 
occupied the post of honour ; however, whenever 
strangers rang at the gate of the seminary, she was 
turned with her face to the wall and the Rights of 
Man displayed to the appreciative gaze of the little 
citoyennes. On one occasion a zealous patriot paid a 
surprise visit to the boarding-school, and Mme Campan 
only just had time to turn the queen's portrait to 
the wall when her visitor entered the class-room 
unannounced. After asking the little maids various 
awkward and unexpected questions — why is it that 
examiners always choose subjects with which their 
victims are unfamiliar ? — he went up to the Ten Com- 
mandments of the Revolution and ordered one of the 
trembling infants to recite them. Whereupon a plucky 
little Spanish girl, Flavie by name, stood up and, 
notwithstanding the fact that she was inwardly quaking 
for herself and her comrades, rattled them off as pertly 
as a parrot, newly arrived from the West Indies, raps 
out his latest repertoire of oaths. 

Mme Campan's sisters, Mmes Rousseau and 
Pannelier, now came to help her teach the little girls 
who were beginning to tlock to Montague de Bon- 
Air. With her increasing success, Mme Campan 
bought several pieces of furniture which had been 
stolen from her house in Paris, precious relics of 
happier days ; having paid off all her debts, she was 
able to look calmly into the future. 

194 



HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS 

In the autumn of 1795 Mme Campan had one 
hundred pupils, although her school was considered 
very expensive in those days. During one of those 
pleasant afternoons in October, when summer seems 
fain to linger a little longer before giving place to 
golden autumn, Mme Campan received a visit from 
Mme de Beauharnais, to whom a literary friend had 
recommended the establishment at Montagne de Bon- 
Air ; the future empress had just placed her son 
Eugene at Father McDermott's College des Irlandais 
in the same town where Mme Campan's own son 
Henri was also studying, and she was anxious for the 
late queen's faithful waiting-woman to educate her 
little daughter Hortense, then aged twelve, and her 
niece Emilie de Beauharnais, This trust Maman 
Campan accepted, promising to mother the little girls ; 
and well did she keep her promise to Hortense, for 
Maman Campan, until her death in 1822, loved the 
unhappy Hortense as dearly as if she had been her 
own flesh and blood. 

Hortense and her cousin Emilie shared a room 
with Egl6 and Adele Augui^ and Mme Pannelier 's 
little daughter, and enjoyed many favours. 

Some months after their arrival, the two little 
Miles de Beauharnais were called into Maman 
Campan's sanctum in order to be inspected by a 
visitor, General Bonaparte by name, who was not a 
stranger to little Hortense, as she had already seen 
him at a party given by Barras, on which occasion he 
had taken no notice of her ; now, however, he ex- 
amined his future stepdaughter so closely that she 
blushed to the roots of her hair, lost her head and her 
tongue, and dashed out of the room like a little savage 

195 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

when she was told she might return to learn her 
book. 

In the beginning of the month of March 1796, 
Maman Campan again called Hortense into her 
sanctum and informed her that her mother was going 
to marry again. When Hortense heard that "the 
Ogre," as she secretly called the mysterious visitor, 
was to be her stepfather, she burst into tears which 
neither Maman Campan's kisses nor her capacious 
bonbonniere could check. With her eyes still red, 
Hortense returned to her companions, who gathered 
round their " Petite Bonne," as they always called her 
— for Hortense, from her earliest years, was an 
engaging little creature — and asked whether Maman 
Campan had been scolding her. At this she burst 
into a still louder fit of crying, and sobbed out that 
" she was very unhappy because her Mama was going 
to marry the Ogre who frightened her, and she was 
afraid that he would be dreadfully strict with her and 
poor Eugene." 

When General Bonaparte, the day after his 
marriage to the graceful Creole widow, took his bride 
and his sisters, Pauline and Caroline, to see his step- 
children at Montagne de Bon-Air, he found Hortense 
still as shy as ever. The Ogre insisted upon going to 
see the children at their lessons and worrying them 
with questions to which the poor little dears made but 
lame replies — when indeed they were able to make 
any at all — for the General's piercing gaze and abrupt 
manner had the effect of depriving the more timid 
pupils of their voices. However, as the future 
Emperor of the French was feeling particularly happy 
that day, he determined that Mme Campan should 

196 




HORTENSE DE BeAUHARNAIS. 



From the portrait by Fran9ois Gerard at the Musee Calvet, Avignon. 
By kind permission of the Director. 



PAULINE AND CAROLINE BONAPARTE 

feel equally so ; therefore he praised both the quaking 
infants and their scarcely less timid governess, and, 
presenting his sisters Pauline and Caroline to their 
future schoolmistress, said : — 

" I am going to confide my sisters to your charge, 
Mme Campan ; I ought to warn you, however, that 
Caroline is a sad dunce. Try to make her as learned 
as dear Hortense." 

So saying he pinched "dear Hortense's " ear very 
gently, whereupon she turned the colour of a peony. 

Pauline's stay under Mme Campan's charge was 
not a lengthy one. But before Mile Caroline had 
been many hours at Montagne de Bon-Air she had 
made quite a number of enemies owing to her bad 
manners — which her schoolmistress was never able to 
cure — and to her vulgar pride in the handsome jewels 
which her generous brother had given her, and which 
excited the envy of one of her fellow-pupils. Mile 
Permon, the future duchesse dAbrantes. 

However, Caroline had two great friends, namely, 
Leontine de Noailles, whose parents had both been 
guillotined, and who later married her cousin, Alfred 
de Noailles; and Pauline Raymond, the granddaughter 
of M. de N^rac. 

Caroline, the most headstrong of the Bonapartes, 
and the particular pet of her famous brother, who called 
her "the Cinderella of the family," had been baptized 
Maria Annunziata, a name which he, for some reason, 
did not like, so he changed it to Caroline, a name 
equally distasteful to Madame Mere, until time and 
associations had endeared it to her. 

When Mme Bonaparte, after a great deal of 
persuasion, consented to join her husband in Italy in 

197 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

June 1796, she left Hortense with Maman Campan, 
under whose care the child made such progress that 
her stepfather, on his return, loudly expressed his 
satisfaction. 

While General Bonaparte and his wife were away 
in Italy, Eugene de Beauharnais and Jerome Bona- 
parte (who was also at the College des Irlandais) were 
allowed, together with Hortense and Emilie de 
Beauharnais, to go up to Paris on two or three 
occasions, when as a great treat they would go to the 
play, where, as pocket-money was none too plentiful, 
they had to sit " in Paradise," or among the gods. 

Caroline was especially lucky, for on such occasions 
her uncle, Joseph Fesch, always invited her to stay 
with him in the rue du Rocher. Among Maman 
Campan's pupils at that time was a little girl named 
Lavinie Roller (who later became the wife of General 
Lefebvre-Desnouettes), the daughter of a lady who 
had once been engaged to the uncle of Caroline, the 
future Cardinal Fesch ; this child and Caroline were 
great friends. 

Eugene de Beauharnais and Jerome Bonaparte 
were sometimes invited to spend the afternoon with 
their sisters, for Maman Campan, herself an exemplary 
sister, was always anxious to instil into the hearts of 
her pupils the value of family affection. Jerome was 
a very ugly boy ; but he must have been good-natured, 
for when one day one of the little girls pointed her 
finger at him, crying: "Oh! how ugly you are, 
Jerome ! " he only smiled. Sometimes Eugene and 
Jerome came, accompanied by a mysterious boy of 
about twelve years of age whom the gammers of 
Montague de Bon-Air declared was the Dauphin, 

198 



A MYSTERIOUS SCHOOLFELLOW 

saved from the Temple by Mme Bonaparte. How- 
ever, Naundorff, the Baron von Trenck of French 
history, would have us believe that certain persons, who 
had tried to effect the rescue of Simon's poor little 
victim, had made a mistake and rescued the wrong 
child ; he declares that when Mme Bonaparte per- 
ceived the mistake, she cried to the child's liberator : — 

" Unhappy wretch ! what have you done ? You 
have committed a fatal error — you have delivered the 
son of Louis xvi into the hands of his father's 
murderers ! " 

"The unhappy child," concludes Naundorff, "had 
therefore been saved instead of me ; / was still 
languishing in the Temple," 

Be this as it may, reports to the effect that the 
Dauphin had been rescued from the Temple by the 
future Empress of the French were very frequent 
about this time. 

The opening of Mme Campan's seminary at 
Montagne de Bon-Air was almost immediately fol- 
lowed by the appearance of several similar establish- 
ments in and outside the capital ; but as none of their 
owners could boast of having lived at the Court of 
Versailles and of having risked their lives for the late 
queen, they were less successful than Mme Campan, 
whereupon they found fault with her system of educa- 
tion, declaring that too much time was devoted to the 
acquirement of accomplishments to the detriment of 
more serious subjects. Mme Campan's system was 
inspired by Fenelon's Education des Filles, which book, 
published in 1688, was the result of a very delicate 
mission, that of preaching the Catholic faith during the 
space of ten years to a number of young female converts 

199 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

from Protestantism residing in an establishment called 
La Maison des Nouvelles Catholiques, and obtained 
for its author the valuable post of tutor to the due de 
Bourgogne, whose affection he soon won. 

The following extracts from Fdnelon's work show 
him to have been more than worthy of being placed 
side by side with his friend, that other noble church- 
man, Bossuet : — 

" Nothing has been so neglected as the education of 
females. Do not women either ruin or prove a blessing 
to their homes, who have the management of the house- 
hold, and who therefore have to decide the most im- 
portant affairs in human life ? The world is but one 
huge family. Virtue belongs to women as much as to 
men ; without speaking of the good or evil which they 
may do to the world in general, half the human race is 
formed of women ; they were bought by the Blood of 
Jesus Christ and are endowed with eternal life." 

Fenelon's advice to a lady of quality who had 
asked whether she ought to send her only daughter 
to a convent or educate her at home is excellent : 
"If you had several daughters, you might find your- 
self unable to do your duty to all of them, in which 
case you might choose a good convent where the 
pupils' education is properly attended to ; but as you 
only have one daughter to bring up, and as God has 
given you the strength to take care of her yourself, 
I think that you can give her a better education than 
can be found in any convent whatsoever. A wise, 
tender. Christian mother perceives what others cannot 
see. When convent-bred girls leave their convents, 
they are like people who have been kept in an under- 
ground cave and have been suddenly brought into the 

200 



A PEARL WITHOUT PRICE 

light of day. I hold the education received at good 
convents in high esteem, but I value still more the 
education given by a virtuous mother when she is free 
to attend to it herself. ..." 

F^nelon said : ** I should like to make young girls 
observe the simplicity which appears in statues and 
other representations of Greek and Roman women ; 
they would then see how hair loosely knotted at the 
back of the head and simple, flowing draperies 
become the wearer. It would even be a good thing 
if they could hear painters and other persons who 
appreciate the exquisite taste of yore discourse upon 
art." 

What would Fenelon and Mme Campan say to 
the ignorant, loud-voiced, big-footed, heavy-handed, 
corsetless, sexless girl of to-day, who smokes, plays 
hockey, talks of her "liberty," and generally apes the 
ways of the mere man whom she affects to despise .'* 

"Girls," says Fenelon, "should only speak when 
they are obliged to do so, and then they should speak 
with a hesitating, deferential air. . . . Teach a girl to 
read and write correctly. It is shameful but common 
to see well-mannered and witty women unable to 
pronounce what they read, or else they stammer or 
drone in a singsong tone ; instead of which they 
ought to pronounce in a simple and natural but 
steady, even voice. They are still more behindhand 
as to spelling and writing. They should also know 
the rudiments of arithmetic. It would be a eood 
thing if they knew something concerning the principles 
of law — for instance, the difference between a will and 
a dotation." 

Mme Campan was evidently influenced in her 

20I 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

method of education by the above work ; however, we 
notice the following remark, of which she certainly did 
not approve : — 

" I do not recommend music and painting," says 
the Archbishop of Cambrai, "because they excite 
the passions. That is why the magistrates of Sparta 
destroyed all musical instruments, the tones of which 
were over-sweet, and why Plato severely rejected all 
the delicious chords and harmonies with which Asiatic 
melodies abound." 

And then the good man ends with the following 
beautiful precept : — 

" Let us all realize that we here below are like 
travellers at a wayside inn or resting under a tent, 
that the body must die and that we can only postpone 
the last hour of dissolution for a brief space of time, 
but that the soul shall soar to its celestial habitation, 
where it shall live for ever in the Life of God." 

Maman Campan composed for her pupils a sort of 
rhyming Ten Commandments, which one and all had 
to learn by heart ; this composition was called : — 

" DU BON TON DANS LE RANG ELEVE COMME DANS LA 
SOCIETE PRIVEE. 

" De la dignite sans hauteur ; 
De la politesse sans fadeur ; 
De la confiance sans hardiesse ; 
Du maintien sans raideur ; 
Des graces sans affectation ; 
De la reserve sans pruderie ; 
De la gaiete sans bruyants eclats ; 
De I'instruction sans pedanterie ; 
Des talents sans pretention ; 
De I'envie de plaire sans coquetterie." 

It is true that a great deal of attention was paid to 

202 



CITOYENNE HORTENSE BEAUHARNAIS 



the art of conversation. Mme Campan instituted 
causeries in her own private room, to which the bigger 
girls were invited and in which they were expected to 
take part. Sometimes the subject chosen was a fire, 
a shipwreck, a picnic spoiled by bad weather, or the 
breaking-off of an engagement. The pupils were 
informed that on no account should such subjects as 
domestics or household matters be discussed in a 
refined lady's drawing-room, though every mistress 
ought to know how to rule her household and avoid 
waste. Politeness was highly commended because it 
concealed a quantity of faults. 

The following document, one of the reports which 
it was Maman Campan's custom to send with her 
pupils when they returned home for their holidays, 
is not without interest, for it concerns her who was to 
become the mother of Napoleon iii : — 

"The National Institution of Saint-Germain-en-Laye 
(under the direction of the citoyenne Campan). 

Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 8 ventose, an vi. 

Mme Campan has the honour to send the citoyenne Bonaparte the 
following extract dated i germinal, an vi, from the Institution of Saint- 
Germain-en-Laye. 

The citoyenne Hortense Eugenie Beauharnais, 4th division, 8th 
section (blue riband), composed of twenty-two pupils. 



Number of inarks. 
Order, cleanliness, punctuality 3 
Reading and writing . . 9 
Memory not sufficiently cultivated 



Arithmetic 

Dictation 

History . 

Geography 

Composition 

Needlework 

Dancing . 



• 9 

• 14 
. 14 
. 6 

faulty 

• 3 
1st on two occasions 



Number of marks. 
Application and obedience 

satisfactory 
Botany . . . satisfactory 
Flower-drawing ... 4 
Figure and landscape 
Elocution 
Singing . 



Harmony 
Piano 
Harp 
Health . 



I 

2 
good 
good 
good 
. 6 
delicate 



203 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

^^ Remarks. 

The citoyenne Beauharnais is endowed with the most precious 
qualities ; she is kind-hearted, sensible, and always ready to oblige her 
companions ; she seldom loses her temper ; she could do anything if 
she were only a little less heedless. She spent four days in the 
infirmary on account of a whitlow on the thumb of her left hand. 
However, she is less greedy and continues to love her relations with all 
the affection and admiration of which they are so thoroughly worthy. 
Citoyenne Campan, nee Genest (directress). 

Note. — As the lessons do not recommence before the end of 
messidor, no account of the studies and compositions of next bruniaire 
will be rendered." 

It will be observed in the above report that, 
although the Montagne de Bon-Air has given place 
to the original Saint-Germain-en- Lay e, so odious to 
the terrorists as an echo of former " superstitions," the 
de is still omitted before the name of de Beauharnais, 
while Mme Campan, her pupil, and that pupil's 
mother, are still styled citoyennes. But many of the 
old institutions and titles, like the dmigrds, were 
beginning to turn up again. 

When the clergy were once more allowed to 
officiate in public, Mme Campan was one of the first 
teachers to beg a priest ^ to come and care for the 
young souls in her charge ; she later presented the 
parish church of Saint-Germain with vestments and 
ornaments to replace those stolen during the Reign 
of Terror, on which occasion there was a grand con- 
firmation and many of her pupils made their First 
Communion. 

Mme Campan wisely engaged the best teachers 
money could obtain : Grasset taught the violin ; 
Isabey, painting ; Langl^ singing ; whereas there 

1 The name of her chaplain was M. Bertrand ; he later became tutor 
to Hortense's sons. 

204 



MARRIAGE OF PAULINE BONAPARTE 

were two masters, Leger and Thienon, to give 
instruction in drawing, there was only one to teach 
geography, which fact gave rise to the report that 
Mme Campan paid far too much attention to 
accomplishments. 

In the summer of 1797, Caroline Bonaparte left 
the seminary at Saint-Germain in order to be present 
at the marriage of her sister Pauline with General 
Leclerc, which was celebrated at Montebello, in Italy, 
where General Bonaparte was resting after that 
brilliantly successful Italian campaign. On this 
occasion the dashing Murat, who was always trying 
to "better himself," formed a plan for marrying his 
general's favourite sister, at that time a lively, pretty 
girl, less handsome than Pauline, perhaps, but very 
fascinating. Mme Bonaparte noticed that Murat had 
seemed much taken by the Cinderella of the family ; 
as for the latter, before many months had passed, she 
had quite lost her heart to the stalwart Southerner. 

Caroline's beauty had already attracted Moreau, 
Augereau, and Lannes ; however, as the latter had 
just been obliged to divorce his wife, he did not count, 
for the Napoleon of those days considered divorce a 
very unnecessary evil. Lannes had a lucky escape. 

As time went on and Murat said nothing, Mme 
Bonaparte was kind enough to hint that an offer of 
marriage in a certain quarter would be favourably 
received. But Murat was a cautious man and so he 
preferred to wait a little. 

During Mme Bonaparte's absence in Italy, 
Hortense paid a visit to her paternal grandfather, 
the vice-admiral marquis de Beauharnais, formerly 
Governor of the Windward Islands, on which occasion 

205 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Mme Campan thought it necessary to send the 
following letter of advice : — 

'■'"11 frimaire^ an F/ (December ii, 1797), 

" I do not know, my dear Hortense, if your Mama 
has returned, and if you have already been able to 
clasp in your arms that beloved mother and Eugene, 
whom you love so dearly. If I had thought that I 
could have possibly met the general (Bonaparte), 
I would have journeyed up to Paris in order to see 
the hero of France ; but it was very difficult for me to 
get away. 

"Be sure to have a piano and Mozin,^ I beg of 
you, and to draw diligently. Do not forget, my dear 
Hortense, that you have lost time and that you have 
only two or three years left to devote to the most 
interesting thing in your life — your education. M. 
Bertrand is now giving his geography lesson ; he 
greatly regrets his dear Hortense, who was making so 
much progress ; it is the same with all the professors. 
The ball was extremely melancholy. Adele * is like a 
shepherd who has lost his shepherdess and will no 
longer dance with the other village-maidens. 

" Give my respects to your grandparents. Aim^e 
Leclerc ^ has an angelic disposition ; she makes 
progress every day ; I am really vastly pleased with 
her. . . . The piano, my dear friend, the piano and 
M. Mozin, or you will have nothing to play when your 
Mama returns. Write to me, my dear Hortense, and 
love me as I love you, for I am yours for ever." 

The allusion to a ball is explained by the fact that 

^ A teacher of the pianoforte. ^ Ad&le Auguie, Mme Campan's niece. 
3 A fellow-pupil of Hortense and later the wife of Marshal Davout 

206 



EMILIE DE BEAUHARNAIS 

Mme Campan prized the art of dancing so highly that 
she paid a dancing-master to come down from Paris 
every Sunday and teach the young ladies the stately 
minuet which she had seen danced in her youth at the 
Court of Marie Antoinette. 

Hortense and her cousin, Emilie de Beauharnais, 
were both very pretty girls ; Hortense with her blue 
eyes, graceful shape, and her golden hair, which she 
then wore in two great plaits hanging down her back, 
began to win hearts at a very early age. Unfortu- 
nately she, like her mother, had rather long and 
prominent teeth which soon decayed. 

Josephine - Emilie - Louise de Beauharnais, her 
cousin, was born under an unlucky star, notwith- 
standing her beauty, which was uncommon, and caused 
Louis Bonaparte, who paid frequent visits to his sister 
Caroline on Emilie's account, to say of her when both 
had left their youth behind them : — 

" She was the most beautiful creature I ever saw ! " 

Emilie first beheld the light of day in 1780; her 
mother, the daughter of the poetess, Mme Fanny de 
Beauharnais, never cared for her and in fact treated 
the little thing with extreme severity, often punishing 
her most cruelly for some childish fault. During the 
Reign of Terror, Mme de Beauharnais was arrested 
at Champy, and imprisoned at Sainte-P^lagie, when 
she obtained a divorce from her emigrant husband in 
order to save her head and her fortune, a step not 
infrequently taken by husbands and wives anxious to 
cut the marriage-bond. While Mme de Beauharnais 
was in prison, her little daughter wrote petition after 
petition to the Convention and the Coinitd de Salut 
public begging them to liberate the mother whom she 

207 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

loved so passionately, but who cared absolutely nothing 
for her. When released, Mme de Beauharnais re- 
turned to her former house in the Chaussee d'Antin, 
which had been confiscated by the nation, and where 
she, a Lazarus where she had once been Dives, was 
now permitted to inhabit a small dwelling, the upper 
floors being occupied by a very rich and generous 
Spanish banker with his three little daughters, one of 
whom, Flavie by name, we have already met. Now 
Emilie de Beauharnais had a very strict governess, 
Mile Coquille, whose rule was no less severe than that 
of the child's mother ; this woman forced Emilie to eat 
food which she hated, and, when she revolted, made 
her live upon dry bread. Emilie, although watched 
so carefully, contrived to make friends with the three 
little Spaniards, who baptized the termagant " Mile 
Coquine," and hated her as much as her pupil did. 

The banker, loath to send his little daughters to 
a big school, begged Mme Campan to allow them to 
stay with her at Coubertin. So well and happy were 
they with her that, when the late queen's waiting- 
woman opened her seminary at Montagne de Bon-Air, 
he not only entrusted his three daughters to her charge, 
but he also persuaded the mothers of Hortense and 
Emilie to send their daughters thither. Now the 
sister-in-law of the future Mme Bonaparte was 
thinking of marrying again, and so, as she found little 
Emilie in the way, she gladly gave her to Mme 
Campan to be educated when she heard the banker 
speak thus of his children's governess : — 

"You wish your daughter to be well educated; 
send her and your niece to Mme Campan. Even if 
you wanted them to become princesses, you could not 

208 





Emilie dk Bkauharnais, 

COiMTliSSE IJE LaVALETTK. 



EMILIE DE BEAUHARNAIS 

do better. Who, better than Mme Campan, could 
accomplish such a feat ? " 

It was a sad little Emilie who left home to nestle 
under the wing of kind Maman Campan ; there was 
not much love lost between Hortense and Emilie, but 
Mme Campan tried hard to make the little Emilie's 
life brighter, and well did she succeed. There was 
a strange facial resemblance between Eugene de 
Beauharnais and his cousin, Emilie, which often 
aroused Hortense's hilarity ; history shows that this 
resemblance extended to their characters. 

General Bonaparte was already making ambitious 
plans for his relatives. 

M. Joseph Turquan rightly remarks : " There was 
not one of his relatives or connections by marriage, 
both on his own side and on his wife's side, who did 
not have cause to be grateful to him ; and it is only 
just to observe that he did not wait to help them until 
he was asked to do so." 

At the age of seventeen. Mile Emilie had many 
admirers, but no prospect of finding a husband — did 
not General Bonaparte say of her : — 

** As the daughter of an dmigrd, nobody wants her ; 
my wife cannot take her into society. The poor 
child is worthy of a better fate " ? 

And the kind-hearted fellow set about finding a 
husband for the girl whom nobody had wanted when 
she was a child. Emilie had developed into a very 
pretty girl ; she had a sweet disposition, and Mme 
Campan had given her a good education. 

General Bonaparte soon found somebody who 
he thought would make a good husband for Emilie. 
Before starting for Egypt, he paid a visit to Mme 
o 209 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Campan's establishment. Mile Emilie was summoned 
to the latter's sanctum ; with a beating heart she 
listened to General Bonaparte. 

" I have come," said he, unfolding his plan, " to 
offer you a gallant fellow, a brave man belonging to 
my army, Lavalette by name." 

Emilie's consternation on hearing that she was 
expected to marry a man whom she had only seen 
twice and whose appearance was the reverse of 
romantic, deprived her of the power of protesting. 
The rosy daydreams faded away into the ugly grey 
light of reality. How could she promise to love and 
be faithful to a man who was still almost a stranger ? 
Surely General Bonaparte's experience must have 
taught him that love cannot be bought and sold in 
this manner ? 

In after years, before Emilie's mind had sunk 
under its burden of anguish, she said concerning her 
own child : — 

" If I can still influence my daughter's fate, never, 
never shall she know what it means to marry some- 
body when one has already bestowed one's affections 
upon another person. As for me, I was enabled to 
master my feelings, and I learnt to suffer long ago ; 
but this would be my child's first sorrow — would she 
be as courageous as I was ? " 

Grief and astonishment prevented Emilie telling 
the general the truth ; but, indeed, how could she 
have confessed to the brother of Louis Bonaparte 
that, during the latter's visits to Caroline, she had 
formed an attachment for the future king of Holland 
which she had every reason to believe was returned ? 
General Bonaparte, taking Emilie's silence for consent, 

2IO 



GENERAL LAVALETTE 

left Saint-Germain convinced that he was acting' as 
the girl's guardian angel. Perhaps he was less certain 
of success with " the gallant fellow." 

Mme Junot paints the following portrait of 
Lavalette in her memoirs * — 

" As for Lavalette, he was extremely ugly, bdti en 
Bacchus, short-legged, stumpy ; he had a comical face 
with small eyes and a nose hardly bigger than a pea, 
but he was very witty and a charming talker." 

On the morrow General Bonaparte took Lavalette 
to the Treasury, where he had to give orders that 
certain sums of money should be sent to Toulon in 
preparation for his departure for Egypt ; this done, 
he told the coachman to drive along the boulevards as 
he wanted to talk to Lavalette at his leisure. 

General Bonaparte lost no time beating about the 
bush, but opened fire at once : — 

" I cannot make you commander of a squadron, so 
I must find you a wife. I want you to marry Emilie 
de Beauharnais ; she is very beautiful, and well 
educated." 

Lavalette, no less taken aback at this news than 
Emilie had been, and not a little annoyed — for rumour 
said that he was engaged in a liaison about that time 
— protested : 

'• But, General, I have only seen her twice in my 
life. I am penniless, and we are soon going to Egypt, 
where it is quite possible that I may be killed, and 
then what would become of my poor widow ? . . . 
Besides, I have no wish to marry." 

Now other people's wishes were always a secondary 
consideration with Napoleon. 

"Tut! tut!" quoth he, "people must marry to 

211 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

have children ; that is the great aim in Hfe. If you are 
killed — which is possible — she will be the widow of 
one of my aides-de-camp, of a defender of the father- 
land ; she will have a pension and be able to establish 
herself advantageously. Now as the daughter of an 
anigrd nobody wants her. . . . The matter must be 
promptly settled. Go and talk to Mme Bonaparte 
this evening ; her mother has already given her 
consent. The marriage shall take place in a week's 
time, and I will give you a fortnight in which to be 
happy. You shall join me at Toulon on the 29th." 

Lavalette was not surprised to hear that Mme 
Bonaparte took a personal interest in Emilie's future ; 
he knew that Hortense's mother did not wish Louis 
Bonaparte to marry the pretty Emilie ; but he could 
not help laughing while his general was laying down 
the law in this rather disconcerting fashion. 

" Oh ! well," said he, "I will do as you wish — but 
will the young lady accept me ? I don't want to 
force her to marry me." 

To which remark. General Bonaparte replied : — 

** She is still scarcely more than a child ; she 
beofins to find school dull, but she would be miserable 
in her mother's house. During your absence, she 
shall oro to her g^randfather at Fontainebleau. You 
will not be killed, and you will come back to her in 
two years' time. There ! the whole affair is settled ! " 

The meeting between Lavalette and Emilie de 
Beauharnais, the child whom nobody wanted, must 
have been painful to both parties. Lavalette after- 
wards confided to Mme Campan that Emilie was the 
prettiest girl of the forty pupils present ; she received 
her fiance's attentions with docility, and gave her 

212 



A MARRIAGE UNDER THE DIRECTOIRE 

consent to the marriage in a sweet, low voice, though 
Maman Campan saw tears gUmmering beneath the 
long lashes of the eyes which had wept so often when 
she first came to shelter under her second mother's 
wing. There is little cause to believe the assertion 
contained in the Mdmoires d'une Inconnue to the 
effect that Emilie declared she would never live with 
her husband. At her request the wedding, which took 
place a week later at the mairie of the ist arrondisse- 
ment of Paris, 3 flordal, an vi, was attended only by 
near relatives and her kind schoolmistress. Shortly 
before the wedding she had come up to stay with her 
mother at no. 70, rue des Mathurins, from whose house 
on the morrow the young couple proceeded to the 
convent of the Conception, in the rue Saint- Honor^ 
where an outlawed priest blessed the marriage. 
Lavalette had given his consent to this ceremony 
because the good creature was anxious to please his 
young wife. 

" How grateful I felt for this consolation," wrote 
EmiHe, long afterwards, "and how fervently I prayed 
Heaven to grant me the strength to conquer myself, 
and not to make him unhappy." 

At the end of a fortnight Emilie discovered that 
she had actually fallen in love with her plain husband ; 
as for him, he was, or ought to have been, the happiest 
husband in France. 

When Lavalette started to join his general at 
Toulon, Emilie went, notwithstanding the prayers of 
her different relations, who, now that she was some- 
body, discovered they were very fond of her, to re- 
side with her grandfather at Fontainebleau, as General 
Bonaparte had promised her husband she should do. 

213 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

The Armde d Egypte had scarcely reached Malta 
when Lavalette learnt that his bride had fallen 
ill of small-pox. Vaccination not being included in 
Mme Campan's terms, poor Emilie's complexion 
suffered somewhat. In later years Mme Campan was 
blamed for many of her pupils' faults, and even for the 
fact that she had not turned ugly misses into belles, 
or enabled the latter to keep their good looks. 
" But," says she in self-defence, " I never announced 
in my prospectuses that my system of education could 
prevent pretty faces being spoiled by the ravages of 
time." 

However, Mme d'Abrantes assures us that 
" Emilie was still far too pretty to suit some people. 
The illness had not injured her fine teeth or her 
splendid figure ; indeed, she recovered nearly all her 
good looks after a time." 

When she was well again, Mme Lavalette had 
her miniature painted for her husband ; Lavalette 
never received it, however, for it was intercepted by 
the English. 



214 



CHAPTER XI 

A prize-giving at Mme Campari's establishment — The First Consul 
assists at a performance oi Esther — The prince of Orange creates 
a sensation by his behaviour — Marriage of Caroline Bonaparte to 
Murat — Hortense goes to dwell at the Tuileries — Mme Campan 
nearly incurs the First Consul's displeasure — Charlotte Bonaparte 
comes to Saint-Germain. 

In a letter written by Mme Campan to Hortense, 
who was staying at Plombieres for the benefit of 
Mme Bonaparte's health, we find an amusing account 
of a prize-giving at Saint-Germain : — 

''July 24, 1798. 

" It was the most brilliant day in the history of my 
establishment, my dear Hortense. How you were 
missed ! But when Isabey publicly announced that 
you had won the first prize for drawing, the applause 
and delight of your fellow-pupils were the most 
sincere praise my amiable Hortense could have ob- 
tained. Your dear grandmamma vastly enjoyed the 
spectacle ; the prize was confided to her care. The 
assembly was one of the largest ever seen at Saint- 
Germain ; the illuminated courtyard, the tent, etc., 
etc., made it look exactly like Tivoli ; and the belles 
who flock in such numbers to that place of amuse- 
ment, were so gracious as to adorn the entertainment 
with their charms ; for the magnificent Mme R^camier, 
Mme Pauligni, and Mme Lavalette, the latter charm- 
ing and attired like an angel, were seen strolling up 

215 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

and down the lawn ; finally, as many as thirty equi- 
pages were counted in my street. But what was 
better than all, was the general satisfaction expressed 
at the education of my young people. Adele (Augui6) 
was charming ; she unfortunately became rather 
frightened while playing her sonata, and the eyes of 
Mme Gueffre (the pianoforte professor) only made 
matters worse. ... In short, my dear friend, I fully 
enjoyed the fruits of my labours, for all Paris praised 
my establishment." 

We can imagine the stern Mme Gueffre — for any- 
body with such a name must have been so — glaring 
at poor Adele from the end of the pianoforte, and 
making her play wrong notes at every turn. 

The year 1799 saw Mme Campan's establishment 
literally besieged by would-be pupils, coming from all 
quarters of the globe, even from Martinique and 
Calcuta^ as she calls it. Years afterwards, Maman 
Campan used to say with pride : — 

" I found myself governess to a nestful of princesses, 
though I was unaware of the fact. I confess that it 
was a very good thing for all parties that we did not 
know it. Perhaps if they had been educated as 
princesses, flattery would have ruined their characters ; 
whereas they, being brought up with all the other 
boarders, were given a refined education which fitted 
them to become good wives and mothers. ..." 

Her success was partly due to the fact that the 
First Consul openly favoured her, and frequently in- 
vited her to La Malmaison after his return from Egypt. 

On one occasion when Mme Campan was dining 
there, the First Consul admired a handsome snuff-box 

216 



MADAME CAMPAN AS FIRST CONSUL 

which the late queen's waiting-woman always carried 
in her pocket, and asked to be allowed to examine it. 
On finding that it was ornamented with a portrait of 
Marie Antoinette, the First Consul was silent for a 
minute, and then returned it to its owner with this 
remark : — 

"You are quite right to keep this portrait. I do 
not like ungrateful people. It is perfectly natural 
that you should wish to keep the picture of that 
charming woman. They wanted to compass her ruin 
in 1793; whom would they not have ruined.-* Her 
birth and tides exasperated them ; their hatred was 
akin to a mania. You would have died for her, I am 
sure, as you will die with her portrait by your side ! " 

Again, he gave her the highest praise he could 
give her when he said that if he was ever tempted to 
form a Republic of females, he would appoint her 
First Consul ! 

But the First Consul's favour caused many of the 
returned Emigre's to look upon Mme Campan with 
disfavour. Luckily she had some valuable partisans 
in the marquise de Tourzel, the duchesse de Luynes, 
the mar^chale de Beauvau, the princesses de Poix 
and d'Henin, the due de Choiseul, the marquis de 
Lally, and her first mistresses, Mesdames, who always 
said they were sure Mme Campan would bring up 
her pupils to love and revere the late king and queen. 

On two occasions the First Consul visited the 
seminary at Saint-Germain, and was so good-natured 
as to sit through some of those terrible inflictions, 
amateur theatricals, when Mme Campan's pupils per- 
formed the time-honoured tragedy of Esther, the 
title-role being played by the future queen of Holland, 

217 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

and that of Elise being taken by her great friend, 
Adele Auguie. The hall was full of the First Consul's 
suite, Ministers, captains, and other imposing persons. 
There was also present no less a personage than the 
prince of Orange/ who had come to France in order 
to interest the First Consul in his cause ; but the 
latter was still too good a Republican to forgive the 
prince for his conduct during the wars of that 
Republic. So, although he was well aware that the 
young man was in the hall, the First Consul purposely 
ignored his presence, until an unforeseen incident 
brought forth one of those crushing remarks with 
which Napoleon was wont to silence importunate 
persons. 

Mme Campan's young ladies had just begun the 
famous chorus, in which the Israelitish maidens voice 
their rapture at returning to their native land, and 
with which the third act of Esther closes : — 

"Je reverrai ces campagnes si chores, 
J'irai pleurer au tombeau de mes pferes." 

Suddenly the music was interrupted by the sound 

^ William Frederick, prince of Orange and Nassau (i 772-1 843), later 
king of the Netherlands. After studying at Leyden and travelling for a 
few years, he entered upon a military career in which he distinguished 
himself by his courageous but unsuccessful opposition against the 
French (1793-94)- Napoleon deprived him of his possessions in 
Germany for having refused to join the Confederation of the Rhine in 
1806. He fought most bravely at W^agram and Jena. On returning to 
his native land in 1B13 he took the title of sovereign-prince, and in 181 5 
the allies gave him the title of king of the Netherlands, when he became 
ruler over Belgium as well as Holland. He was unable to prevent 
Belgium being wrested from his grasp by the French Revolution of 
1830. His marriage to a Belgian lady, the comtesse d'Oultremont, 
belonging to the Catholic faith, and other unpopular actions forced him 
to abdicate in 1840, when he went to reside in Berlin, where he died 
three years later. 

218 



AMATEUR THEATRICALS 

of loud sobbing at the back of the hall. The First 
Consul, who was seated in a red velvet arm-chair in 
the place of honour in the front row, turned round to 
Mme Campan, who was immediately behind him, and 
asked what was the matter. That lady, thinking to 
further the exile's cause, replied : — 

"The prince of Orange is present; the verses 
which have just been sung reminded him very pain- 
fully of his own case and his own griefs, and he was 
unable to restrain his tears." 

To which piece of information the First Consul, 
comfortably settling himself again in his arm-chair, 
remarked in a cool tone : — 

"Oh! is that all? I really need not have turned 
round in my chair for such a small matter." 

Mme Campan was very fond of writing plays for 
her pupils to act ; on such occasions Hortense always 
shone by her singing and dancing. Among the pieces 
in which the future queen of Holland appeared were : 
La Famille Dawenport, La nouvelle Lticile, La Vieille 
de la Cabane ; one of her governess's most success- 
ful plays was Cecilia, ou la Pension de Londres. Mme 
Campan showed her esteem for English people by 
giving many of her characters English names, such as : 
Milady Dawen, la mere Dawson, Mistress Teachum, 
Lady Hamilton, Lady Arabella Richard, Mrs. Whit- 
field, Lady Goldenall, Lady Lindsey, Mrs. Morton, 
Peggy, Betty, Sally, etc. etc. 

The young ladies of Saint-Germain had other 
pleasures besides private theatricals ; in the winter 
there were dances, and in summer picnics in the beauti- 
ful forest, and visits to the poor of the neighbourhood, 
when any pupil who had been particularly industrious 

219 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

during the week was allowed to go and distribute alms. 
It was the pupils' custom to collect a purse of money 
and present it to Maman Campan on her birthday ; this 
money she always gave to the clergy for the poor of 
Saint-Germain ; during her years of success, the sum 
frequently amounted to more than a thousand francs. 

We have already mentioned the fact that Murat 
was a cautious man. General Bonaparte's recent 
successes had shown many people, including Murat, 
that he was the coming ruler of France. Towards the 
end of 1799, Murat, remembering Mme Bonaparte's 
hint, went to see M. Collot, and told him that he had 
formed an attachment for the First Consul's youngest 
sister, and that he had reason to believe that he was 
not indifferent to her. M. Collot recommended Murat 
to go straight to the First Consul and make a formal 
proposal for Caroline's hand. 

Did Napoleon read Murat's character aright when 
he at first refused to give his favourite to his aide-de- 
camp ? But Josephine was determined to have her own 
way ; she persuaded the First Consul to hold a family 
council one evening after dinner at the Petit Luxem- 
bourg, the result of which was that Napoleon was 
driven into a corner, and obliged to give in to his 
wife's wishes. To hide the fact that he had allowed 
himself to be influenced by a woman, he said :— 

"All things considered, Murat suits my sister; 
no one will be able to say that I am proud, or that I 
am anxious to marry my family to grand folk. If I 
had given my sister in marriage to a noble, all your 
Jacobins would have screamed that I was a counter- 
revolutionist. And then I am very glad that my wife 
has taken such an interest in the marriage. ..." 

220 



CAROLINE MARRIES MURAT 

When all was settled, the First Consul paid a visit 
to Caroline's former governess ; after informing her of 
his sister's approaching marriage, he remarked : — 

" I don't approve of marriages between children 
who don't know their own mind ; their excitable little 
brains are influenced by their volcanic imaginations. 
I had other plans for Caroline — who knows what a 
grand alliance I might have arranged for her ? She is 
a giddy-brained creature, and does not understand my 
position. Perhaps a time might have come when 
sovereigns would have fought for her hand ? She is 
marrying a brave fellow ; but that is not sufficient for 
me in my present position. However, we must let 
Fate lead us where she will." 

Caroline was eighteen and Murat thirty-three at 
the time of their marriage, which took place on 
January 20, 1800, at Plailly, near Morfontaine. 

After the excesses of the Revolution, as after the 
Franco- Prussian War, many marriages were celebrated 
in France, 3315 being performed during the year viii 
of the Republic, while 3842 were celebrated in the 
following year, and — what was far more important 
to the home life of the nations- — divorces became 
fewer. 

The First Consul gave his little sister a dowry of 
30,000 francs, a diamond necklace belonging to his wife 
— a mean gift — and a magnificent trousseau provided 
by the well-known Demoiselles Lolive, enclosed in 
a basket lined with yellow corded silk embroidered in 
black chenille and heavily scented with that delicious 
perfume, Peati d'Espagne. Among the garments, all 
of which were enveloped in muslin wrappers tied up 
with pink favours, were twelve dozen chemises made 

221 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

of the finest cambric trimmed with cobweb lace, twelve 
dozen embroidered handkerchiefs edged with Valen- 
ciennes and Malines lace, numberless shoes, stockings, 
petticoats — everything she could wish for and much 
more than was necessary for the wife of a soldier, be 
he ever so brave. 

It must be confessed that Cinderella's subsequent 
career did not do much credit to her governess. " Her 
manners," said her cousin, Mme Junot, very bitterly, 
" left much to be desired." When driving out with the 
future duchesse d'Abrantes, Mme Murat would con- 
sume quantities of cakes and grapes without thinking 
of offering any to her cousin until they were nearly all 
eaten. People laid the blame of her ill-breeding upon 
Mme Campan, who, they said, was in the habit of 
letting her well-connected pupils do exactly as they 
liked in order that she might be popular with the 
young misses. 

A week after her marriage, Caroline paid a visit 
to her former schoolfellows. Maman Campan wrote : 
"Her carriage was filled with sweetmeats ; this fact, 
however, had nothing to do with the warm welcome 
which she received ; the sweetmeats, nevertheless, 
were highly appreciated. ..." 

On February 19, 1800, the First Consul took up 
his abode at the Tuileries. Hortense now left the 
pleasant home at Saint-Germain, where she had known 
nothing but happiness. She was about to enter upon 
a new career, for " Petite Bonne " would now have to 
play the part of dutiful stepdaughter to the greatest 
man in Europe. Years afterwards Maman Campan 
would remind her favourite of the feeling of terror 
with which the once light-hearted Hortense had 

222 



"PETITE BONNE " AT THE TUILERIES 

entered upon her career as a fashionable demoiselle a 
marier : — 

" I love to think of your first and well-founded 
alarm at the sudden turn in your fortune. . . . Do you 
remember, Madame, how sad you looked when you 
said to poor Adele ( Auguie) and to me : * My step- 
father is a comet of which we form the tail ; we must 
follow him in blind ignorance as to his destination. 
Will it be for our happiness ? Will it be for our mis- 
fortune? . . .' And the impatience of your amiable 
and tender mother when you did not come down to 
dinner punctually at La Malmaison, and the First 
Consul having already entered the dining-room, she 
went up to your room where you were drawing that 
fine portrait of the Mameluke Roustan, in order to 
scold you, and ask whether you expected to earn your 
living as an artist that you worked so hard ? And 
your wonderfully philosophical reply considering your 
age : ' Madame, who can tell in these days of un- 
expected changes whether we shall not have to do so 
some day ? ' . . ." 

Mme Campan was not without some misgivings as 
to how her beloved "Petite Bonne" would behave, 
now that she was living in a palace : — 

"So, my good Hortense," wrote she, "you are 
now inhabiting a very pretty room. Be careful to 
regulate your daily life ; allow me to give you my 
affectionate advice during your future career. The 
most important thing is never to show yourself at the 
windows ; have muslin curtains in your room during 
the winter, and canvas blinds during the summer 
months : never did the person who formerly lived there 
allow any young females, in whom she took an interest, 

223 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

to show themselves at the window. The most im- 
pudent dandies would come and strut about under 
your windows, just because they had seen you at a 
few dances. . . . Do not go often to balls ; do not let 
the public see you too frequently ; avoid fast women. 
. . . Dieu ! how proud am I ! and how my pride 
awakens prayers, wishes, fears for you ! . . . You must 
also have lessons from Bonesi ; ^ the busier you are, the 
happier you will be ! We will speak of books another 
time. Adieu, my angel." 

On February 24, 1800, Mme Campan gave .a 
grand masked ball at which Zoe Talon, the future 
Mme du Cayla, dressed as an'<5ld cake-woman, created 
quite a furore with her lively repartees. The two 
little Talon girls had been brought to Mme Campan 
soon after she opened her establishment by the comte 
de Scepeaux, at that time an officer in La Vendee, beg- 
ging her to take care of the children, whose father was 
imprisoned in the Temple and their mother in hiding. 

A letter from Mme Campan dated March 7 of this 
same year gives us a peep into those days of stiff 
ceremony and company manners, when any attempt to 
show the natural feelings in company was considered 
du plus mauvais ton : — 

" Embrace my dear Caroline (Murat) very tenderly 
forme," she writes to Hortense ; " tell her that, as her 
former governess, I beg of her not to give visible 
tokens of affection to her dear husband when she 
goes to the play with him ; she is severely criticized 
on this point, nay, more ! she is blamed. We owe 
great respect to the public ; by acting thus she 
offends public morality ; for if a young wife does not 

^ A fashionable professor of singing 
224 




Caroline Bonaparte, 
with her daughter marie. 



Fioin a painting by L,e Brun, 



MAMAN CAMPAN GIVES GOOD ADVICE 

behave with reserve towards her husband, another 
woman may take liberties with her lover — and then 
what would become of the theatre and other public 
assemblies ? Moreover, all eyes are fixed upon the 
Bonaparte family, and you are ever before the public. 
Would you believe that people blame me when my 
pupils are guilty of small faults? Be sure to tell 
Caroline that I only give her this advice because I 
take an interest in her ; I shall always look upon you 
and her as my daughters. ..." 

Mme Campan, knowing that Hortense could 
neither ask for, nor receive, good advice from her 
mother — for Josephine was one of those women whose 
chief object in life is to get on in the world and to be 
amused — wrote the following letter to her beloved 
pupil, hoping thereby to save her from imitating her 
mother's example : — 

"To Mile Eugdnie^ de Beauharnais at the Tuileries. 

" 8 germinal, an viii. 

"You are now, my dear Hortense, in a social 
whirlpool, which obliges you to lunch seven days in 
the ddcade in town and decadi'^ and primidi at La 
Malmaison ; if this continues you will no longer have 
time to attend to your studies. You will have to bid 
farewell to all serious occupations, and be content to 
hear all Paris say that you have been drawn into the 
social whirlpool, unless you are brave and strong 
enough to resist this dangerous whirlpool towards 
which even your Mama, in her very natural pleasure 

1 Hortense de Beauharnais was baptized Eugenie-Hortense and for 
the first years of her life was called Eugenie. 

2 Dicadi and przmzdz = tenth and first days of the decade in the 
calendar of the first French Republic. 

P 225 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

at having you with her, is drawing you. But take 
care, my Hortense ; those who invite you are not 
doing so for your good but for their own, because you 
are the most popular person of the day — a terrifying 
fact when we think of it, for it means that that favour 
is only temporary. So say to yourself bravely : ' I 
will devote my mornings to study, / will, I will.' 
This is how I think you ought to employ your time : 
You must retire so as to be in bed by midnight ; you 
must rise at 9 o'clock in the morning. You must take 
a lesson from half-past nine until lunch, or else draw 
by yourself : this is most important. After lunch 
another lesson. 

'' Duodi. — Hyacinthe Jadin ; a drawing lesson on 
the same day. 

" Tridi. — Bonesi at the same hour, then draw by 
yourself if you wish. 

" Quartidi. — Hyacinthe Jadin, and your drawing- 
master. 

•* Quintidi. — Bonesi, and draw by yourself. 

*' Sestidi. — Hyacinthe Jadin, and your drawing- 
master. 

" Septidi. — Grasset, and your ordinary studies. 

*' Octidi. — Hyacinthe Jadin, and the drawing- 
master. 

" Nonidiy d^cadi, and primidi will be holidays on 
account of being in the country. 

" By paying your professors punctually every first 
day of the month you, with your mother's consent, 
will have the satisfaction of paying regularly, and 
enjoying the esteem which always belongs to persons 
who are punctual in their payments. ..." 

226 



ARREST OF MME CAMPAN'S FRIENDS 

In the month of April, Mme Campan found her- 
self in a very disagreeable position, owing to the fact 
that two of her most intimate friends at Saint-Germain, 
an old lady of nearly eighty years of age, Mme de 
I'Hopital by name, and Dr. Dubreuil, physician to her 
establishment, were accused of being concerned in a 
plot against the Government ; the doctor was also 
accused of visiting an ex-prisoner of the Temple, M. 
Talon, the father of Zo^ one of Mme Campan's 
cleverest pupils. The First Consul was never a partisan 
of half-measures ; he promptly gave orders for the 
arrest of Mme Campan's friends. But before being 
dragged off to prison in Paris, Dr. Dubreuil had time 
to scribble off a little note to Mme Campan in which he 
besought her to use her influence with the First Consul. 

Mme Campan immediately hurried up to Paris and 
requested the new proprietor of the Tuileries to grant 
her an interview. 

His first words were far from reassuring. 

" So you have come to plead for the inhabitants of 
Saint-Germain," he remarked curtly ; ** your Mme 
de I'Hopital is an intriguer." 

" Excuse me. General," replied his visitor, "people 
may have reproached her for having been a little 
flighty in her youth, but at seventy-eight years of age 
that is all past and gone. She never was an intriguer, 
no ! coquetry was more natural to her. But she is now 
blind. She entertains a few friends every evening." 

Josephine's presence during this interview perhaps 
softened the First Consul, for he now said : — 

" A blind woman of seventy-eight years of age 
can never be anything but innocent of political crimes. 
The Minister has been guilty of gross barbarity, 

227 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

unworthy of a Government such as mine ! If Fouch^ 
had been in league with my enemies, he could not 
have done better ! He must have been crazy to 
commit such a blunder ! I will not allow my authority 
to be employed for such acts. I desire my authority 
to be used with reason ; a Government should have 
wide views and generous impulses ; what has just 
happened is worthy of the mistress of a sovereign 
when she is in a passion. I do not intend matters to 
be conducted in this manner ; a Minister should never 
display passionate behaviour, because people may be 
led to think that the chief of the State is governed by 
his temper. History should never forget anything; 
what would history say of such a deed ? What has 
the doctor done ? " 

"He prescribed for M. Talon's child. General, and 
he has for long been in the habit of visiting his former 
companion in misfortune — for he and M. Talon were 
at one time imprisoned together in the Temple." 

"It is incredible ! A doctor has the right to feel 
the pulse of my enemy as well as that of my friend 
without a Minister daring to complain. Abuses com- 
promise authority, and make it unpopular. I am 
going to have an explanation with the Minister and 
liberate his victims." 

So saying, General Bonaparte rushed to the bell, 
tugged at it violently, and ordered his servant to fetch 
Fouch^ immediately. That astute gentleman got "a 
good blowing-up," as Mme Campan puts it, with 
many apologies for using such an unladylike expres- 
sion. Nevertheless Fouch^ managed, by bungling 
and dilatoriness, to keep the so-called conspirators in 
prison for another twenty-four hours. 

228 



CARRIAGEFOLK 

Great was Mme de THopital's delight when she 
was told that Mme Bonaparte had sent one of her 
own carriages to take Fouch^'s victims back to Saint- 
Germain ; she almost forgot the indignity to which 
she had been subjected, and cried in her joy at the 
idea of being seen driving through the streets of 
Saint-Germain in one of the First Consul's car- 
riages : — 

" Has Mme Bonaparte sent her beautiful white 
equipage ? " 

•' Eh ! Madame," snapped out Dr. Dubreuil ; 
" what does it matter whether it be white or black so 
long as it takes us away from here ? " 

Such is the ingratitude of mankind that Mme 
Talon, instead of thanking her daughter's governess 
for obtaining the release of her husband's friend, 
accused her of trying to backbite her. 

Mme Campan's letters to Hortense contain much 
good advice : — 

"Write your letters very carefully," says she; "a 
letter written by a woman of quality to her milliner 
may fall into the hands of persons who can guess by 
its style whether the writer is well-bred or not." 

Mme Campan probably had Caroline in her mind 
when she wrote : — 

" A woman who only wishes to please her husband 
is adorned by her virtues and not by fine clothes ; she 
cares naught for the offensive admiration of strangers. 
Prudence and modesty become her far more than gold 
and emeralds ; her charming visage is tinged with 
modesty ; her thrift, her desire to please her husband, 
her affection, her meekness — these are the jewels 
which enhance her beauty. A virtuous woman con- 

229 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

siders her husband's wishes as a sacred law ; she brings 
him a valuable dowry, prudence and obedience ; for a 
beautiful soul is preferable to Fortune's deceitful and 
ephemeral gifts, and to bodily charms which will soon 
fade. Beauty is ruined by illness, but the beauty of 
the soul endures as long as life. ..." 

During the spring of 1800 another little Bonaparte 
came to nestle under Mme Campan's wings. This 
child was the eldest living daughter of Lucien 
Bonaparte, who in the previous year had lost his wife, 
the tenderly loved Christine Boyer, on which occasion 
Josephine had dared to assert that Lucien had 
poisoned his wife, whereas she had really died of con- 
sumption. At the time of her marriage, Christine 
had neither been able to read nor write ; but so deter- 
mined was she not to disgrace her husband by her 
ignorance, that she set to work to educate herself, and 
succeeded so well that at the end of a few months she 
could write quite a good hand. Her letters are better 
than if they had been written by a clever woman — for 
they show her to have been a charming and affectionate 
wife and mother. 

Napoleon had never forgiven Lucien for marry- 
ing without his consent ; however, on hearing of 
Christine's death, the First Consul wrote to the 
widower : " You have lost an excellent wife. A good 
wife has a good inflMence over her husband. I hope I 
may never need the courage which you now require 
in order to be able to bear such a misfortune." 

Christine, who was two years older than her 
husband, had borne him four children, only two of 
whom had lived any time, Christine Charlotte, born 
1795, and Christine Egypta, born 1798. 

230 



DEATH OF LUCIEN'S FIRST WIFE 

Lucien buried his dear Christine in the grounds 
of his property at Plessis-Chamant, with the following 
inscription on her tomb : — 

" Lover/ wife, and mother without reproach." 

On hearing of her daughter-in-law's death, 
Madame Mere hastened down to Plessis-Chamant, 
where Elisa (Mme Baciocchi), of whom Joseph 
Bonaparte said that " she, of all the Bonapartes, most 
resembled Napoleon in all respects," had helped to 
smooth the dying woman's pillow. Lucien wrote 
years after this event : " I was alone with my two 
little daughters. My sister Elisa acted the part of a 
mother to them at the time of the catastrophe. It was 
therefore my two little daughters and this dearly-loved 
sister who first consoled me in my cruel loss. We 
wept together over the tomb which I erected to 
Christine's memory in a lonely, sheltered corner of my 
park. Elisa loved tending the little garden round 
the grave of the woman whom I had cherished so^ 
fondly, and who so thoroughly deserved my affection, 
almost as much as I did. When Christine lay dying 
in my arms and those of our sister Elisa, she ex- 
pressed a hope that her two little daughters, Charlotte 
and Egypta, would not want for a mother's care ; 
whereupon Elisa promised to tend them, which sacred 
promise she kept for four years." 

Mme Bonaparte at first had the eldest child, 
Charlotte, or Lolotte, as the motherless lamb called 
herself, to stay with her at the Tuileries ; but after a 
few months had elapsed, Josephine took her niece to 
Mme Campan, and begged her to attend to Lolotte's 

^ The word lover {amante) was afterwards erased and friend {amie) 
inserted in its place. 

231 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

much-neglected education. Now Maman Campan 
was always extremely successful with very young 
children ; she explains her secret in her work, De 
l Education : — 

"While I was at Saint-Germain a little maid of 
five years of age was brought to me ; she seemed 
languid and morose. I immediately took her on my 
lap, laid her head on my breast, and kissed her, 
whereupon she smiled up into my face and began to 
shed tears of joy ; she soon became quite happy and 
sweet-tempered. I had another little pupil of ten 
years of age who had had an attack of paralysis in 
one of her arms. I went to see her every day in the 
infirmary, when she would stare at me out of her big 
black eyes. A remark from the nurse gave me to 
understand that she thought the child was merely 
feigning illness ; it is commonly believed that this 
malady only attacks elderly people. I took the poor 
child into my room and put her into my own bed. I 
was not mistaken ; the little creature, who was very 
intelligent, had been accused by the nurses of feigning 
indisposition, this injustice had so chagrined her that 
the doctors' drugs had had no effect upon her. That 
child is now the comtesse de Nicolai. ..." 

Before Lolotte had been many weeks with Maman 
Campan, that lady wrote to Mme Bonaparte : — 

** Lolotte is already quite a different child ; she 
speaks more quietly, is more attentive to her book. 
I make her lessons very short, for it is a difficult 
matter to fix a little child's attention for ten minutes 
at a time. I prefer to give her two lessons a day. I 
do the same for the piano. ..." 

Poor baby ! we can imagine how the child 

232 



AUNT JOSEPHINE PROVES STRICT 

must have hated those black and white notes, which 
to her little ears and eyes must have sounded and 
looked so provokingly alike. 

But Manian Campan was patient and the pupil 
obedient, and soon they were able to play little duets 
together. In another letter, written just before the 
holidays, Maman Campan wrote : — 

" Lolotte changes for the better every day ; I am 
correcting all her little faults. She is a pretty child 
and has good qualities. Let me hear if the First 
Consul has noticed any improvement in her." 

Great must have been Mme Campan's dismay 
when Lolotte, on returning to Saint-Germain after 
the holidays, handed her the following letter written 
by the wife of the First Consul : — 

" To Madame Campan, at Saint-Germain. 
" In sending back my niece, my dear Mme 
Campan, I beg you to allow me both to thank and to 
blame you. I thank you for your kind care of her, 
for the brilliant education which you are giving to 
this child. But I blame you for the faults which you 
in your sagacity have noticed in her, but which you 
in your indulgence have tolerated. This little girl is 
gentle but unaffectionate ; she is clever for her years 
but disdainful ; witty but tactless ; nobody loves her, 
but she does not care. She thinks that her uncle's 
reputation and her father's valour are everything. 
Be very severe, very strict with her ; let her see that 
such things are worthless. We live at a time when 
everybody has to work out his or her own fate ; it is 
only the most amiable and the most useful members 
of society who can hope to be chosen by the State to 

233 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

serve it and enjoy a few favours and advantages. 
Thus and thus only can the fortunate hope to silence 
the envious. That, my dear Mme Campan, is what 
you ought to have taught my niece, and that is what 
you should never cease to repeat to her in my name. 
I wish her to treat as her equals all her schoolfellows, 
most of whom are better or as good as herself, and 
who do not lack for parents more clever and more 
lucky than her own." 

This last remark is very unkind ; but then 
Josephine hated Lucien with all the force of her 
Creole nature. She forgot that she was writing of 
a little motherless child, still scarcely more than a 
baby. She had detested Lolotte's mother even more. 
On the rare and painful occasions when Mme 
Bonaparte had visited her sister-in-law, she had 
treated Christine as her inferior, almost as a menial, 
making her hostess follow her about in her own 
house "like a dog trotting after its master," as Mme 
d'Abrantes puts it, "and taking the seat of honour." 

During the summer of 1800 the monotony of 
school-life at Saint-Germain was again pleasantly 
varied by a courtship, in this case more romantic than 
that of Emilie de Beauharnais by Lavalette. One of 
Mme Campan's pupils, Clementine de Manherbes, the 
daughter of a returned dmigrd, received while still at 
school a proposal of marriage from a M. de V^rigni, 
who, with Maman Campan's consent, became her 
accepted fianc^ and was allowed to pay her periodical 
visits, when the young couple sat on two chairs in the 
governess's sanctum and made love under the watch- 
ful eye of that lady. In an amusing letter to Hortense, 

234 



UNSEEMLY BEHAVIOUR 

Mme Campan depicts the behaviour suitable to pro- 
spective brides : — 

" One can see that little Clementine is deeply in 
love with her fiance ; but she is so ashamed of the 
fact, that she positively looks like a criminal. When 
people congratulate her upon her marriage, which 
takes place next ddcadi, she covers her face with her 
hands and sinks her head on her breast. I disap- 
prove of such extreme timidity ; such a ridiculous 
shame of the consequences of marriage is almost un- 
seemly. In this case a calm, decent, dignified deport- 
ment appears to me to be much more suitable. ..." 



235 



CHAPTER XII 

A fashionable boarding-school in the beginning of the nineteenth century 
— Anglomania and the anges gardiens — Mme Campan gives 
Hortense de Beauharnais good advice concerning the choice of a 
husband — Two more members of the de Beauharnais family come 
to Saint-Germain — One of Mme Campan's former pupils incurs the 
First Consul's displeasure — The young ladies fete the signing of the 
Treaty of Luneville — Peace is concluded with England — Hortense 
is betrothed to Louis Bonaparte — General Bonaparte finds a wife 
for General Davout — Felicite Fodoas becomes Mme Savary. 

One of Mme Campan's favourite sayings was that 
"a good education is a fortune in itself," and she 
prided herself upon giving her pupils the very best 
education which money could obtain. She was 
particular as to the food given to the young ladies, 
whose meals she always shared ; one consequence of 
this habit was an increase in the expenses of the 
establishment. In her work, De I' Education, she 
gives a deplorable picture of the privations endured 
by children at public-schools a century ago. 

"The schools where children are well fed are all 
too few ; they sometimes do not get enough to eat. 
It is shameful to hear complaints about such an 
extremely important matter. We frequently hear of 
pupils bursting into complaints at the sight of the 
revolting food placed before them, rebelling in their 
refectories and becoming riotous for a reason con- 
sidered of no importance by their masters. ..." 

236 



LES ANGES GARDIENS 

She condemns the practice of children paying the 
servants to buy them food outside the school : — 

"The servants, whose sole desire is to cheat the 
pupils, always choose unsuitable food ; these clan- 
destine feasts consumed out of meal-time only ruin 
the children's health. ..." 

Mme Campan's establishment was considered 
expensive in those days, when day-schools were 
almost unknown in France. In the above-mentioned 
work she gives her compatriots some interesting de- 
tails concerning the numerous boarding-schools which 
then existed in England and America. 

"There are many schools in England," says she, 
"where the scholars pay from one hundred to one 
hundred and fifty guineas a year. The holidays last 
six weeks, and at the beginning of every new school- 
year the parents pay an extra sum of six guineas for 
the servants' wages." 

Maman Campan could speak with authority upon 
that vexed question, the merits and demerits of les 
anges gardiens. Although she disapproved of English 
nurses she recognized the necessity of engaging 
English governesses to teach their own language to 
her pupils. But it is somewhat surprising to learn 
that already at the end of the eighteenth century 
many snobettes in Paris had adopted the fashion of 
having English nurses for their children. " I allow," 
says she, " that the pronunciation and the idioms of 
the two languages can be learnt more easily in child- 
hood. . . . However, an English nurse may also 
inculcate many false ideas into her charge's mind. 
If the mother does not understand the language the 
nurse, unless constantly watched, will as freely in- 

237 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

dulge in faults and go her own way as obstinately as 
any French servant ; and, like the latter, she will 
put your little ones to sleep by telling them stories of 
ghosts and hobgoblins, will not fail to make them 
afraid of mice and spiders, and will instil into their 
little minds those ideas which are so tenacious and 
always prevent the development of the reasoning 
powers. ..." 

She had a very high opinion of Maria Edge- 
worth's works, and said "everything by her which 
has been translated is good." She recommended 
many English customs ; however, there was one 
fashion which scandalized her and which she says she 
shall take good care not to imitate. " As dancing is 
forbidden on Sunday by the Anglican Church, the 
directors of the London boys' schools, in order to 
finish the week well, send their pupils to spend 
Saturday afternoon at the girls' schools ; but the great 
boys (in English) and the yozmg misses in England {\r\ 
English) remain children three or four years longer 
than the children of our country owing to the climate 
and the habits of the people ; we in France could not 
run the risk of allowing such assemblies ! " 

We doubt very much whether Mme Campan 
approved of Rousseau's advice to mothers to bathe 
their children daily in ice-cold water in winter. But 
she certainly did approve of his protest against the 
custom of winding babes up in nine yards of linen 
and flannel so that they looked like mummies. " This 
custom," says she, "enables the nurse to get rid of 
her charge by hanging it up to a hook. The best 
way to accustom an infant to use its limbs is to lay it 
on a rug or on a lawn ; it will immediately try to turn 

238 



LOVE OF LITTLE CHILDREN 

itself over on its stomach and then it will begin to 
crawl on all fours like a little quadruped ; later it will 
learn to raise itself on its feet, balance itself against 
some object, and then make a few steps without any 
other support than its mother's hands." 

She tells us that at one time it was the fashion to 
dress little girls like little boys — a fashion still seen at 
some French bathing-places — and she recommends 
both sexes being allowed to play and learn together 
until the age of seven years. 

"Young or old," wrote she in one of her most 
touching chapters, " we women can never behold 
an infant in swaddling-clothes without experiencing a 
feeling which no man can quite understand. . . . The 
intelligence of a one-year old child develops so rapidly 
that, although it is condemned to silence, it passes a 
great part of its time in noticing people and things. 
Look at the little creature, how, at six months, it 
recognizes its mother and its nurse, and soon after 
points to its father. When it cries, it is fed ; it 
smiles, it kicks its little feet about in the air with 
delight. At other times when it cries, it is taken 
out of doors ; it breathes the fresh air of the garden ; 
and the smile which takes the place of the tears tells 
you : ' That is just what I wanted ! ' " 

Maman Campan could be very strict on occasion 
in consequence of having seen a little girl of five years 
of age, the only child of her parents, die because she 
had refused to drink the physic which might have 
saved her life : " Prayers, promises, bribes were all 
tried in vain : she always pushed the cup away. 
Since then I have ever accustomed my pupils to drink 
bitter physic from time to time." She made a special 

239 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

point of teaching kindness to animals, and never ceased 
to protest against children being allowed to see 
domestic creatures killed for eating. 

All her pupils were taught to put their toys away 
when they had done playing with them. " The child 
who has drawn the same coach up and down his 
mother's garden a whole winter long is as happy as 
he whose cupboards are bursting with toys ; by 
making him put his little coach in its stable every night 
he will learn to be tidy. . . . Dolls are as necessary 
to little girls as tin soldiers to their brothers. As 
soon as a little girl can toddle, if she has no doll of 
her own she will nurse a bundle of rags. By the 
effect of an admirable instinct, a veritable blessing of 
Providence, you will see her rever le nom de mere en 
bergant sa poupde." 

Of foreign governesses in general Mme Campan 
speaks not unkindly. " Foreigners are at first dis- 
agreeable and hard to please ; I know this, because I 
had several in my house. But we must forgive 
them, for they feel strange and as if they had been 
uprooted. I think they are usually less docile 
than French women. At Saint-Germain I always 
imagined they looked like full-fledged birds which had 
been imprisoned in an aviary ; so I let them hop 
about as they pleased, only requiring them to conform 
to the rules of the establishment. I treated them so 
gently and so kindly that they soon became tame. 
One and all remained friends with me." 

With all these luxuries and modern innovations, 
Mme Campan was obliged 'to limit her own expenses, 
and in her letters to Hortense she frequently expresses 
a wish that she could afford to buy herself a carriage 

240 



HORTENSE LOSES HER HEART 

in which to drive up to Paris. At last in the autumn 
of 1800 she was able to scrape together the necessary 
sum, whereupon she wrote in great glee : — 

" I am going to try to find a demi-fortune ^ which, 
by hiring one horse, will carry me wherever I want to 

go." 

She used this carriage when she paid those visits 
to La Malmaison which gave so much pleasure to 
both governess and pupil. On one of these visits 
Hortense took Maman Campan into her own boudoir 
and confided to her kind old friend that her mother 
and stepfather were anxious to find her a husband. 
She had already had two or three proposals. Mme 
Bonaparte, after trying to make up a match between 
her daughter and Jerome Bonaparte, who was still 
scarcely more than a schoolboy, had thought of her 
enemy Lucien as a possible husband, so little did she 
really care for her daughter ; however, Lucien had 
other plans. M. Rewbell, the son of the president of 
the Directoire, and the comte de Mun, an elderly and 
wealthy returned dinigrd^ had then offered themselves ; 
one and all had met with no success, either because 
the First Consul or the young lady herself did not 
look with favour upon the suitor. The fact of the 
matter was that poor little Hortense had lost her 
heart to Duroc, and the affair had got so far that they 
were on writing terms with one another — which means 
a great deal in France. 

On returning to Saint-Germain, Mme Campan 
wrote the following letter of advice, that advice of 
which poor Hortense all her life craved but never 
followed : — 

'^ A demi-fortune is a four-wheeled, one-horse carriage. 

Q 241 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" To Mile de Beauharnais at La Malmaison. 

'''' 2\ fructidor, an viii {September ii, 1800). 

'* My thoughts have been constantly with you 
since my last visit to La Malmaison, my dear, good 
Hortense ; this you can easily believe when you 
remember the affection which I have sworn to 
bestow upon you as long as you live. You are in 
an embarrassing position. It is the duty of every 
sensible girl to avoid choosing a husband for herself 
and to reserve to herself the sole right of refusing 
the suitor supposing the person chosen by her 
parents does not please her, or she feels she cannot 
love him. You have exercised this right in a similar 
circumstance, although my opinion was favourable 

to M. ^ on account of his wit, his rank, his 

fortune, and his affection for you ; I respected your 
refusal and ceased to endeavour to persuade you to 
change your mind. It is so important for you, for 
your Mama's happiness, that you should follow the 
First Consul's advice ; so obey his wishes, for you 
would surely be blamed if the public ever learnt that 
you had not complied with his wishes. You had 
nothing to do with the strange Fate which, after 
having brought about the union of your Mama with 
General Bonaparte, has now placed you, with a 
rapidity which only belongs to periods of revolution, 
in the front ranks of the State. Be on your guard 
against the passion which you have inspired ; try not 
to return it ; if you feel disposed to accord any 
preference to the young man of whom you spoke, 
remember that perhaps it would be better for him if 

1 Evidently M. de Mun. 
242 



THE BETTER PART 

you did not share his passion. Do not read novels ; 
and, above all things, do not imagine that you have 
inspired a romantic affection : genuine happiness lies 
very far away from such catastrophes. General 
Bonaparte spoke very sensibly the other day when he 
said : ' All these young heads fancy they are in 
love ! ' . . . The First Consul loves you as if you 
were his own child. Think how kind he has been to 
you ; remember his rights as a stepfather ; realize his 
present position. Would you like some advice from 
the person who loves you best on earth ? Be brave 
and speak to him. Tell him that your heart is free 
and that you desire to comply with his wishes for 
your establishment. . . . Do not go and ruin your 
life. The misfortunes which we bring upon ourselves 
are the only unbearable ones ; because when we begin 
to reason with ourselves, we see how mistaken we 
were, because passion makes us weak, whereas reason 
supports us. . . . Adieu, my good Hortense, I pray 
God that you may make a good choice. Unfortu- 
nately we are taught in our youth to draw and sing, 
but experience alone can teach us how to perceive, 
appreciate, and choose the better part. . . ." 

As if she felt that she had not said enough to her 
beloved *' Petite Bonne," Mme Campan writes soon 
afterwards : — 

" The illusion of love soon passes, but the chain 
remains. The gentleman appears in his true colours 
— it is not his fault ; he has not changed ; we blame 
him unjustly, whereas we should blame ourselves for 
our own blindness, our own foolish imagination. ..." 

Mme Campan found that Mile Hortense de 

243 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

Beauharnais was a good advertisement for her school ; 
demands for admission flowed in at the beginning of 
every new term. That she did not accept all the 
pupils who wanted to share the studies of the young 
Bonapartes, de Beauharnais, and many young 
aristocrates, we learn from the following extract : — 

" If I see Madame la ci-devant marquise de 

giggling in a corner with her lover, I consider her no 
better than the Belle Clotilde ^ whose child I would 
not admit among my pupils, whereas I consented to 
receive the daughter of an honest farmer." 

For this so-called act of arrogance Mme Campan 
was much blamed. 

She now had under her care several pupils whose 
relatives had already won, or were about to win, fame 
for themselves ; among these were : Anna Leblond, 
who later married a brother of poor General Duphot ; 
Sophie de Marbois (later duchesse de Plaisance), 
General Clarke's little girl ; and Eliza de Lally (later 
Mme d' Aux), a granddaughter of the unhappy Thomas 
Arthur, count of Lally and baron of Tollendal, and 
daughter of the author of Strafford, for whose literary 
talents Mme Campan expressed the greatest admira- 
tion, even going so far as to call his style perfect. Of 
Eliza's grandfather she said : — 

" M. de Lally 's father was decapitated for his 
despotism while Governor of Pondicherry, but was 
rehabilitated after his death — which is very satis- 
factory for the children but does not replace the 
father's head on his shoulders." 

Towards the end of 1800 another motherless 
child, Stephanie, the daughter of Claude 11 de 
^ A fashionable dancer of the time. 
244 



NAPOLEON, THE LOVER OF CHILDREN 

Beauharnais, and granddaughter of Fanny de 
Beauharnais, the poetaster, came to be educated 
at Mme Campan's Seminary. Stephanie's mother, 
nde Mile de Lezay-Marnesia, had died after giving 
birth to this little daughter, August 28, 1789, and her 
father soon married again. However, the little girl 
was so terribly neglected by her stepmother that an 
English lady took pity upon her and persuaded M. 
de Beauharnais to let her place Stephanie at a convent- 
school in Montauban, where she soon won all hearts. 
Shortly after the battle of Marengo Mme Bonaparte 
was showinof her husband some stilted verses written 
in his honour by Mme Fanny de Beauharnais, 
when she happened to mention the little motherless 
Stephanie. When Napoleon, who loved little children, 
asked where she was, Josephine replied : — 

"Her father has neglected her shamefully. Her 
grandmother is far too occupied writing poetry to 
waste her time over her little granddaughter. 
However, an English lady has taken pity upon her 
and sent her to a convent-school." 

On hearing this, General Bonaparte loudly re- 
proached his wife for not having told him before. 

" How could you allow such a thing?" cried he ; 
"how could you permit a member of your own family 
to be supported by a foreigner, an Englishwoman, 
and therefore our enemy at present ? Are you not 
afraid that your memory will suffer for this negligence 
some day ? " 

The First Consul immediately dispatched a 
messenger to the convent with orders that the little 
girl was to be sent to him. However, as General 
Bonaparte had omitted to ask the father's consent, 

245 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the good nuns, delighted to have an excuse for 
keeping the child away from such a godless place as 
Republican Paris, refused to let her go. General 
Bonaparte then obtained M. de Beauharnais' per- 
mission to take away his child, and dispatched another 
messenger in the person of M. de Lezay-Marn^sia, 
Stephanie's uncle. To that gentleman's astonishment, 
when he told the child that he had come to take her 
to her cousin, who lived in a very beautiful palace and 
would buy up all the toyshops in Paris if she asked 
her to do so, Stephanie burst into tears and refused 
to leave her kind friends, the nuns. But a little girl's 
wishes count for naught. . . . 

The First Consul immediately lost his heart to the 
delicate, fair-haired, blue-eyed Stephanie, so unlike the 
bouncing, rather coarse Bonapartes ; he welcomed her 
to the Tuileries, taking the motherless child in his 
arms and kissing her on both cheeks ; before 
Stephanie had been many hours in the palace, she 
had forgotten her kind friends at Montauban as 
completely as if they had never existed. 

As for Cousin Josephine, she ransacked all the 
toyshops in the capital, spent fabulous sums on dolls, 
pretty clothes, and jewels for the little girl whose 
delicate features and refined manners had captivated 
her ; but^at the same time she ordered a school outfit 
— for Mme Bonaparte neither had the time nor the 
inclination to turn schoolma'am. So when the outfit 
was ready, Stephanie was told that she was quite 
rested from the fatigues of the journey, that no more 
time must be lost, and then she was packed off to 
Maman Campan, who had brought up Cousin Hortense 
so successfully. 

246 




Stephanie de Beauharnais. 

From a painting by Gerard. 



STEPHANIE DE BEAUHARNAIS 

One of Mme Campan's first tasks was to undo the 
harm caused by the First Consul's scandalous habit of 
spoiling children. She found the child thoughtless, 
vain, and passionately fond of pretty clothes and jewels. 
But Mme Campan herself was very partial to pretty 
things, for she wrote to Hortense, December 29, 
1 800 : — 

" Old Mile Bertin to-day showed me a most 
original apron with a fichu attached which quite turned 
my head as well as the heads of all the young ladies ; 
although it is trimmed all round with Valenciennes 
lace, the price is only five louis ; it is the first of its 
sort. Ask to see it and explain that you will return 
it if it does not suit you. She will not sell it until 
you have inspected it. ..." 

About this time another Stephanie, Mile Stephanie 
Tascher de La Pagerie, Josephine's cousin and god- 
daughter, was entrusted to the care of Maman 
Campan ; as this little Stephanie was in very delicate 
health, the directress of Saint-Germain had to act the 
part of mother and nurse rather than that of governess. 

Mme Campan's pupils were mostly tractable and 
good-natured little creatures ; she tells us, however, 
of one young miss, aged fifteen, whose airs and graces 
threatened to ruin her prospects in life ; to her she 
addressed the following lecture : — 

' ' You are handsome, Mademoiselle, I will even say 
that you are very handsome, and I wish to be the first 
person to pay you this agreeable compliment, because 
I desire to add that your beauty will soon be a thing 
of the past. For human life is so brief that beauty 
fades as quickly as the rose which we see withered at 
night and wish we had gathered in the morning. 

247 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

You are handsome, I repeat, but I can say with equal 
truth that you are silly, vain, rough, ignorant, and 
rather heartless ; so that all these faults, far from 
passing away with time like the fresh colour in your 
pretty face, will only increase and make you and those 
who live with you unhappy when not a single pleasing 
feature is to be found in your physiognomy." 

Some of Mme Campan's pupils were already out 
in the world where the returned Emigres were about 
to bestow upon them the title of les cttisinieres de 
Bonaparte. It must be confessed that Mme Moreau, 
who, as Eugenie Hulot, had enjoyed the immense 
advantage of having Marie Antoinette's virtues held 
up to her for admiration, did not reflect much credit 
upon her former governess. Mme Moreau's mother, 
Mme Hulot, was a particularly unpleasant specimen 
of a French matron : narrow-minded, proud, jealous, 
fond of gossip and scandal, and a bully into the 
bargain, as her son-in-law found to his cost before he 
had been married many months. At first Moreau 
tried to resist her iron rule, but Mme Hulot well knew 
that constant dropping will wear away the hardest 
stone, and by repeated doses of nagging she reduced 
her son-in-law to limp submission. Napoleon called 
her a martinet, and said that she and her daughter 
were Moreau's bad angels, that they encouraged him to 
do wrong, and that they were responsible for his faults. 

When Mme Moreau heard in December 1800 of 
the victory of Hohenlinden which France owed to her 
husband, she hurried off to the Tuileries and requested 
an audience of Mme Bonaparte. However, neither 
on this occasion nor on a subsequent visit was that 
lady visible. Mme Moreau called yet a third time, 

248 



MOREAU'S BAD ANGELS 

taking care to bring her mama with her. But the 
two termagants had no more success than the one had 
had. After waiting some time in a cold anteroom, 
the ladies gathered up their skirts and departed, 
Mme Hulot taking care to remark in a loud voice as 
she left the palace that "the wife of the victor of 
Hohenlinden ought not to have been kept waiting 
like that — the Directors would have treated her more 
politely." 

Now General Bonaparte hated nothing more than 
to hear people regret the "good old days" of the 
ancien regivWy the Revolution or the Directoire, as 
the case might be. On Mme Hulot's remark being 
repeated to him, he could not restrain his wrath. 

"What?" cried he, "does Mme Hulot regret the 
good old days of the Directoire just because the head 
of the State has no time to spare from his important 
task to gossip with old women ? " 

Mme Campan's birthday in 1801 reminded her 
that her favourite Hortense was no longer under her 
wing. On that occasion she wrote : — 

" I could not help thinking of how my Hortense 
and her good Eugene once brought me an orange-tree 
on my birthday. Your fate was very different then to 
what it is now, but I loved you dearly and you would 
have found me the tenderest of mothers had you ever 
lacked one. Those children who cannot pay for their 
schooling are just as dear to me as their fellow-pupils ; 
I do not forbid them to collect a little present for me 
on my birthday, because I do not wish to wound their 
feelings and because I do not wish the rich pupils to 
humiliate their poorer companions." 

In February 1801 Mme Campan learnt that the 

249 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Treaty of Lun6ville had been signed by the French 
RepubHc and Austria, whereby the Rhine was made 
France's natural boundary, Austria received the 
Venetian States, and the German ecclesiastical States 
were secularized and given to various German princes 
in order to indemnify them for their losses. To 
celebrate this great event Maman Campan gave her 
pupils a whole holiday and bespoke twelve dozen 
tartlets for dinner — which shows that such delicacies 
were not as common in young ladies' schools as they 
are nowadays. Upon hearing this good news, 
" Lolotte Bonaparte jumped for joy for a whole 
quarter of an hour." The holiday concluded with a 
little play in which '' Lolotte had a small part which 
she acted vastly well ; but neither she nor the little 
Isabey ^ could ever remember their cue. In order to 
prevent any mishap, I made two big girls hold them 
by the hand and told them to pinch the little fingers 
of Lolotte and the little Isabey whenever it was their 
turn to speak, and so everything passed off very well. 
I really think I should have made a first-rate dancing- 
mistress for little dogs. ..." 

In this same year Mme Campan's only child, 
Henri, stepped out into the great world to earn his 
living. From the time she set up her establishment 
at Montagne de Bon-Air, she never mentions her 
husband in her writings or letters. She hinted that 
her marriage had not been a success ; however, the 
only child of that union was never anything but a 
source of the greatest happiness to her. Her letters to 
him are very simple, very beautiful ; one, written soon 
after the fledgling had left the nest, is worth quoting : — 

^ The daughter of Isabey, the celebrated miniaturiste. 
250 



A MOTHER'S HOPES 

'■'• \\fructidor^an IX. 

^^ Ami cheril why am I not a man now that my 
only child is obliged to step forth on that road along 
which every member of his sex has to travel ? Why 
cannot I follow him, guide him, walk by his side, 
encourage him by my lessons — and above all by my 
example, teach him to love work ? To do this would 
be to enjoy life for a second time ; but alas ! when 
once the baby-clothes are folded and laid away, when 
once the toddling feet have learnt to walk alone, your 
mother, like all other mothers, must be content to 
advise. May my counsel prove useful to you, my 
Henri ! May I, like my sister, hear myself praised 
for my son's behaviour ! Oh ! what a happy day it 
will be for me when this general chorus of applause 
strikes upon my ear ! Then and then only shall I be 
able to cry from the bottom of my heart : * I have 
lived long enough ! ' I shall then begin a new 
existence enjoying your success and your happiness. 
Everything depends upon wishing to do well : that 
and that alone will lead you anywhere. ... I stand 
on the bank of a rapid river and watch my dear 
pilgrim set sail, and I cry to him : ' Furl thy sails, 
grasp thine oars ! '" 

Henri's first post was in a business house in 
Marseilles ; here he began by being very unhappy 
and inclined to shirk his work ; however, he soon grew 
accustomed to the routine, and eventually took pride 
and interest in his profession. 

With Mme Campan's ever-increasing popularity — 
would-be pupils had frequently to wait several months 
before a vacancy permitted them to enter the much- 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

praised Seminary — all sorts of rumours concerning 
her extravagance began to be circulated in Paris. 
General Boubers had been trying for two months to 
get his little daughter admitted, when he was informed 
by a gentleman of the name of Georges that he had 
been obliged to remove his two daughters from Mme 
Campan's establishment because he found that they 
were expected to spend one thousand 4cus (;^i2o)a 
year on their toilet. General Boubers having repeated 
this piece of information to the lady in question, she 
indignantly retorted that she had never had any pupils 
of the name of Georges under her care, and that the 
whole story was a vile invention fabricated by some 
jealous Parisian schoolmistresses who were afraid 
that, now that the Peace with England was about to 
be signed,^ "the English milords would take their 
daughters to learn of the confidante of the unfortunate 
French queen." 

All France hailed the news that the Peace with 
England was about to be signed with delight. To 
many of Maman Campan's children this event meant 
a joyful meeting with some long-absent relative, a 
beloved father or brother. 

Mme Campan describes the scene enacted at Saint- 
Germain when the news was received : — 

"What an event! and how it crowns Bonaparte's 
exploits ! Nothing is more beautiful, nothing can be 
grander, than the spectacle of a warrior who has 
vanquished nearly the whole of the universe laying 
down his arms to grasp the olive branch. . . . How 
children realize the grandeur of such a deed, although 
the childish lips can scarcely express their sensations, 
^ The preliminary articles of that Peace were signed October i, 1801. 

252 



AN ENCHANTING SIGHT 

and although the lack of words or timidity prevents 
them voicing their feelings ! One of my pupils cried, 
with tears streaming down her cheeks : ' My brother 
is coming home ! ' Another exclaimed : ' My father 
will not be obliged to join the army now ! ' Felicite 
Fodoas said : ' My mother will no longer feel the 
pinch of poverty.' . . . We women can neither be 
politicians nor warriors. Woe to empires when 
women interfere with the affairs of the State ! . . . 
You know how I love to see my pupils patriotic. The 
day after receiving the news of the Peace, the entire 
garden was illuminated ; there was a ball in the big 
rotunda, charming fireworks and creams and tartlets 
for supper. In order that the pupils might be 
perfectly at their ease, and that the door should be 
shut on calumny, I invited nobody — not even my old 
friends. The girls were all dressed in white ; the 
brightly lighted garden was full of the happy little 
souls. It was really an enchanting sight. ..." 

In consequence of various reports furnished by 
visitors to La Malmaison and the Tuileries, Mme 
Campan wrote the following letter to *' Petite Bonne," 
who, alas ! was about to commit the greatest mistake 
of her life, and marry a man totally unfitted for her : — 

" I can no longer keep silent, my dear Hortense. 
Owing to certain hints dropped by your Mama, and 
also to my own observations, I fancy you are about 
to form a connection of which all Europe will approve. 
... I saw that there was a coolness between you and 
the citoyen Louis, which had made me renounce a 
long-cherished desire. I had noticed that you both 
possessed certain tastes which, when shared in 
common, assure a happy married life to their owners ; 

253 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

you suit each other, and you would not be dull 
together in the quietest retreat if your tastes or 
necessity forced you to retire from the world. You 
will be the link between two families which should 
form but one, and which are both dear to France. I 
therefore predict that you will love each other very 
dearly and for ever, because the sentiment which 
springs from conviction is the only lasting one. . . . 
You know that I have always liked M. Louis. You 
blamed him once for being a woman-hater ; the First 
Consul, who knows how to find remedies for all the 
evils under the sun, has in his wisdom chosen the only 
woman who can cure his brother of this failing. You 
will be a happy wife, my dear angel ; one does not 
need to be a witch to predict this, but I tell it to you 
as your dearest friend, who, for more than three years, 
has had but one wish. Three years ago Colonel 
Louis said a very strange thing to me one day while 
you were eating your modest school-fare by my side, 
and it made me think that he shared my wish. I 
have not seen the citoyen Louis very often, but I 
know him quite well enough to see that it would be a 
very difficult matter to find him a suitable wife. You 
are the wife I would order for him if such articles 
could be bespoken. ..." 

** Louis Bonaparte," says Bourrienne in his 
Memoirs, "allowed other people to choose a wife for 
him. Hortense had hitherto avoided him on every 
occasion ; her indifference towards him was no less 
marked than his towards her. These feelings of 
indifference endured until the end of the chapter." 

Joseph and Lucien Bonaparte, however, affirm 
that their brother Louis was deeply in love with 

254 



A LIGHTNING MARRIAGE 

Josephine's pretty daughter. Louis was always a shy, 
nervous man, afraid or ashamed of showing his feel- 
ings, so perhaps they were right. Be this as it may, 
Napoleon, having chosen a wife for his brother, 
clenched the matter by hurrying up the marriage. It 
was in this same month of October 1801 that the 
First Consul determined to send his brother-in-law, 
General Leclerc, for whose miserably unhappy 
marriage he was partly responsible, on an expedition 
to San Dominofo. 

Mile Ducrest gives, in the following words, an 
amusing account of how Napoleon brought about 
another of those lightning marriages which frequently 
ended in disaster : — 

" Bonaparte wished to confide the command of the 
troops to his brother-in-law. General Leclerc, who had 
married Pauline Bonaparte. He sent for him to come 
to his study, and told him his intentions. General 
Leclerc said : — 

" * I should be happy to serve France again ; but, 
General, a sacred duty keeps me here.' 

" 'Your love for Pauletta? She shall accompany 
you, it will do her good. The air of Paris is bad for 
her ; it is impregnated with coquetry of which she has 
no need, so she shall go with you. That matter is 
setded.' 

** * I should be very sorry to have to leave her, but 
that is not sufficient reason for me to refuse an honour- 
able post. My wife, should she remain here, would 
be with her affectionate relations. So I should have 
no anxiety on her account ; but it is for my good 
sister's sake that I am obliged to decline what would 
give me the greatest pleasure on any other occasion. 

255 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

She is young and pretty ; her education is not yet 
completed. I have no dowry to give her. Ought I 
to leave her without any support, when my absence 
may be prolonged, unending ? My brothers are 
absent, so I must remain here, I refer the matter to 
you, you who love your family so dearly — General, 
can I act otherwise ? ' 

*' ' No, certainly not. We must find a husband 
for her without more ado — to-morrow, for instance, 
and then you can start immediately.' 

" ' But I repeat, I have no fortune and ' 

"'Well? am I not here? Go and make your 
preparations, mon cher. Your sister shall be married 
to-morrow — I don't yet know to whom, but that 
doesn't matter ; she shall be married, and well married, 
too.' 

" ' But ' 

" * I think I have spoken clearly, so don't make 
any remarks.' 

** General Leclerc, accustomed like all the other 
generals to consider as his master him who, but a 
short time before, had been his equal, left the room 
without another word. 

"A few minutes later. General Davout entered 
the First Consul's study, and told him that he had 
come to inform him of the fact that he was about to 
be married. 

" * To Mile Leclerc ? I think it a very suitable 
match.' 

'"No, General, to Mme ' 

" ' To Mile Lecle7'c,' Napoleon interrupted, laying 
stress upon the name. ' Not only is the marriage 
suitable, but I wish it to take place immediately.' 

256 




Copyright by\ 



Pauline Bonaparte. 

From a painting by Le Fevre. 



[Braun iS-" Co. 



THE STORY OF DAVOUT'S COURTSHIP 

" ' I have long loved Mme ; she is now free, 

and nothing shall make me give her up.' 

"'Nothing except my will,' retorted the First 
Consul, fixing his eagle eye upon his visitor. ' You 
will now go straight to Mme Campan's at Saint- 
Germain, and you will ask to see your future wife. 
You will be introduced to her by her brother, General 
Leclerc, who is now talking to my wife. He will go 
with you. Mile Aim^e will come up to Paris this 
evening. You will order the wedding-presents, which 
must be handsome, as I am going to act father to the 
young lady. I will see about the dowry and the 
trousseau, and the marriage shall be celebrated as 
soon as the necessary formalities have been fulfilled. 
I shall take care that they are simplified. You have 
heard what I have just said ; you must obey.' 

" Having finished this long speech, which he uttered 
very fast in his own particular tone of voice, Napoleon 
rang the bell and gave orders that Leclerc should 
be sent for. 

" No sooner did he see him than he cried out : — 

"'Well! wasn't I right? Here is your sister's 
husband. Go down to Saint-Germain together, and 
don't let me see you again until everything has been 
settled. I hate discussions over money matters.' 

" The two generals, equally astonished, left the 
room in obedience to his command. Notwithstanding 
his very unamiable and brusque character, General 
Davout obeyed humbly. On arriving at Mme 
Campan's he was introduced to Mile Leclerc, who, 
probably because she had been flung at his head and 
because he could not get out of marrying her, he 
thought very insipid. The interview, as we can 
R 257 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

imagine, was very solemn, but at last everything was 
arranged. The marriage took place a few days later." 
The bride, Aim^e Leclerc, and her younger sister, 
who afterwards married General Friant, were protegees 
of Mme Bonaparte. Louise Aim^e Julie Leclerc was 
as pretty as an angel, and her simplicity and modesty 
remained unchanged through good and evil fortune. 
Just before her marriage, Aim^e, who had gone up 
to Paris to buy her trousseau, wrote a heart-broken 
letter to Maman Campan, in which she probably 
hinted that the future looked very black. Maman 
Campan replies : — 

" My dear Aime:e, — I now perceive how dearly I 
love you, for I cried most bitterly when I got your 
letter in which you apprised me of the fact that the 
date of your marriage had been fixed. People speak 
very highly of General Davout. Providence probably 
destined you for each other. You will do well to 
leave Paris where men have only too much reason to 
fear for the reputations of their wives and daughters, 
and to go and live in an atmosphere where you will 
cherish work and learn to study your own faults ; for 
you know, my dear Aim^e, how anxious I am for you 
to become acquainted with the human heart and our 
duties. So I am assured of your success, my good 
friend ; you are one of those who will realize what 
people are pleased to call my ideal, that is to say : 
you will endeavour to please everybody while making 
one man perfectly happy ; you will use all seemly 
means to please, but only in order to give your hus- 
band the satisfaction of possessing an amiable wife. 
Common sense united to a kind heart are necessary 

258 



THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 

to ensure fidelity in love. Do you think a husband 
can ever be unfaithful to a wife whose manners are 
graceful and retiring, who dresses tastefully but 
modestly and economically ; whose mornings are 
occupied in attending to household duties and to 
necessary cleanliness, and who in the evening accords 
a polite and friendly reception to her friends ; who 
cultivates her mind by reading useful books and 
divides her leisure between her work-box and her 
palette ; who has no whims and recognizes man's 
superiority, and only reserves to herself the modest and 
amiable right to do the honours of her home ? . . 
To live absolutely for the husband of one's choice, 
to appreciate exterior qualities and charms in order 
to be more desirable in his opinion, never to display 
them to the world without thinking of him, that is the 
road to happiness and a pleasant one along which 
to travel ! . . . " (Oh ! Maman Campan ! Maman 
Campan ! how your old heart must have ached as 
you wrote those lines !) " The general will love you 
more dearly every day ; he knows the world, he has 
had his own troubles ; he will find in you fresh 
consolation and new pleasures. ..." 

It was said that General Davout did not care for 
his wife at first and that he made no attempt to do so. 
However, if it is true that he was contemplating 
marriage with another lady when General Bonaparte 
ordered him to espouse Aim^e Leclerc, it is a wonder 
that the lightning marriage did not end in a lightning 
divorce. 

Davout was really a brave, good-natured, kind- 
hearted fellow — did not Stendhal say of him : 

259 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" Marshal Davout was a great man to whom justice 
has never yet been rendered," and was it not Napoleon 
who, in a moment of peril, cried : " Ah ! if only Davout 
had been there " ? and he probably realized that his 
young bride was not to blame in the unfortunate 
affair, for the year after his marriage he wrote her 
the most charming letters in which he styles himself 
ton petit Louis, calls her ma petite Aimde and swears 
he is jealous — which was a fact and a proof that he 
loved her. 

While on service abroad, he would send her 
presents of bulbs for her garden, to which she was 
devoted, muslins, China, etc., and in his letters urged 
her to purchase jewels and to go out into society more 
frequently in order to prevent people saying that she 
lived a life of retirement at his command. 

One of Mme Davout's first purchases after her 
marriage was for her old governess ; it consisted of a 
magnificent China dinner-service. In gratitude for this 
kindness, Mme Campan had a lock of her own hair 
set in a ring, which she begged her chere Aimde to 
keep in memory of those peaceful years at Saint- 
Germain. Davout was fond of saying of himself that 
he had the brain of a general and the heart of a 
common citoyen ; for he hated war both in his own 
home and abroad, was a most affectionate son-in-law, 
and always treated his wife's relations as if they were 
his own. 

It is recorded of Mme Davout that she was rather 
an indolent woman ; she had one habit in especial which 
was most distasteful to her soldier husband : she was 
never punctual and was always late for meals. After 
waiting until the soup was cold, General Davout used 

260 



CUPID VISITS SAINT-GERMAIN 

to send one of his children to tell their Mama that 
the dinner-hour was past, while he would pace up 
and down the dining-room looking at his watch and 
wondering why she could never manage to be punctual. 
But this was the most he ever did. As soon as his 
wife appeared, he would give her his arm with an 
indulgent smile and hand her to her place. Husbands 
in France are long-suffering creatures. 

In November Mme Campan assisted at the 
marriage of another of her pupils, Fdicit^ Fodoas 
marrying the citoyen Savary ; this time it was a love 
match, for Maman Campan wrote to tell Hortense that 
"the pair were very much in love with one another. 

Felicity Fodoas-Barbazan was a distant relative 
of Mme Bonaparte, who probably had something to 
do with the girl going to Mme Campan's school. 
Felicite was a handsome brunette with a fine figure, 
jet black hair and a generous disposition, which she 
showed when she refused to neglect Josephine after 
the latter's divorce. Unfortunately F^licit^ soon 
after her marriage, took it into her head that she 
should like to become a blonde and so she became 
one. but with such disastrous results that, when 
dressed up to appear at the imperial Court, every- 
body noticed a strong resemblance to Aunt Sally ot 

joyous memory. 

In the following month of November, Mme 
Campan gave a litde party in honour of the two 
brides, Mmes Davout and Savary, when all the pupils 
drank tea with their former schoolfellows and ate 
unlimited tartlets and creams. The only men present 
were the two bridegrooms, J^r6me Bonaparte, Eugene 
de Beauharnais and Henri Campan. 

261 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

General Davout's first child was a daughter ; he 
must have been somewhat disappointed, but the only 
occasion on which he voiced his regret was once 
when dandling the little child on his knees he kissed 
her on the forehead saying : " Why were you not 
a boy?" However, he reprimanded his cousin, 
d'Avout de Montjalin, when the latter told him 
that his wife had unfortunately just given birth to 
a daughter, with the remark that a father should be 
as fond of his daughters as of his sons. When 
another little daughter was born in 1802, Davout 
was the only member of the family who did not call 
her Mademoiselle de trop. 

When at last a son was born to the brave Davout, 
of course he was baptized Louis Napoleon ; but he 
went by the name of Monsieur Non, from a baby- 
habit he had of shaking his curls and crying Non ! 
non I Alas ! little Monsieur Non died while still a 
babe, as did the two eldest daughters. However, 
another son, Paul, soon came to fill the empty cradle. 
In a dear letter to his wife, Davout says : " Kiss 
Paul's tiny hands and feet. I charge him to embrace 
his little Mama with all his heart, and to beg her to 
keep up her courage during the absence of her best 
friend." 

In 181 1 the third son, called le tout petit Louis, or 
Louis Bouton-de-Rose (Rosebud), was born. 



262 



CHAPTER XIII 

Mme Campan is able to put aside " a crust of bread " for her old age — 
Eliza Monroe — The young ladies of Saint-Germain embroider a 
map of the French Republic — Hortense de Beauharnais marries 
Louis Bonaparte — The Peace of Amiens is signed — Mme Moreau 
again arouses the First Consul's wrath — Mme Bonaparte finds 
a husband for one of Mme Campan's nieces — Birth of Hortense's 
first child — The happy days of Mme Campan — Another of her 
nieces marries — The Emperor asks Mme Campan to help him form 
his Court — The Emperor and the Orphans of Austerlitz — Stephanie 
de Beauharnais is married to the hereditary prince of Baden. 

In November 1801, Mme Campan wrote to her 
favourite Hortense the following letter, the first part 
of which is written in English, and is a very credit- 
able performance, considering the fact that the writer 
never set foot on the white cliffs of la perfide 
Albion : — 

" I send you, my dear Hortense, a book translated 
from the french of M. Saint- Lambert into english. 
The translator is one of M. Thompson, who was 
formerly master of the english language in my 
school. Saint- Lambert's maxims have been injustly 
and severely judged by those who disaprove moral 
principles separated from religious principles, and in 
his work there is not a word about religion. The 
man whose heart full with these maxims is knowing 
perfectly all his duties as a father, as a son, husband, 
and citizen, is easily convinced of the necessity of 
being a good Christian. You may then read this 

263 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

work as being one of the best of this age, and your 
english master will tell you if he thinks it has been 
translated with exactness and a sufficient eloquence.^ 
— I write English fluently, my dear Hortense. Let 
your master tell you what he thinks of my English, 
my spelling, and my grammar. I should be very glad 
to hear his opinion. . . . This morning I had a visit 
from Lady Care ^ {sic). She seems to think that her 
little girl is too young to come to my school. 
Reassure her as to this matter, my dear Hortense. 
I and Mile Vaucher will devote ourselves to the child. 
I will undo all the spoiling, and send her home a 
charming little girl in three or four months ; I give 
you my word. Between ourselves (for I speak to 
you as if you were my dear niece) it is very important 
for me that the English, and in fact all foreigners, 
should learn the way to Saint-Germain, and you will 
be doing me a great service if you can persuade them 
to do so. The Parisian schools are always intriguing 
and are for ever trying to prevent the fact being known 
that my establishment is the most perfect of its kind ; 
so that I need to be well supported and praised by 
my faithful pupils, and nobody is better able to do 
that than my dear Hortense." 

The winter of 1801-02 was a terribly severe one. 
Bread became fabulously dear, " which event," says 
Mme Campan, " means that my baker's bill will be 

^ The rest of the letter is written in French. 

^ Mme Campan probably means Lady Cahir, later Countess of 
Glengall, who was in Paris about this time and whom Miss Mary Berry 
frequently mentions. Mme Campan displays the same indifference 
towards the spelling of foreign names as all her contemporaries. The 
name Kinnaird, frequently mentioned in her letters, is spelt in six 
different ways : Kynaird, Kinair, Kinnaird, Kinaird, Kennaird, and 
Kinaid. 

264 



SOME OF MME CAMPAN'S PUPILS 

2000 livres more a year ; however, the Peace of 
Amiens will set matters right." 

Notwithstanding this fact Mme Campan was able 
during the next three years to put aside from 8000 to 
10,000 livres, "a crust of bread," she calls it, "which 
has surely been well earned." 

In December 1801, General Victor brought his 
little daughter Victorine to study with Mme Campan. 
Among her fellow-pupils were Nelly Bourjolie (later 
maid-of-honour to Stephanie de Beauharnais when the 
latter became grand-duchess of Baden) ; Antoinette 
de Mackau (later Mme Wathier de Saint-Alphonse) ; 
Eliza Monroe, the daughter of the originator of the 
celebrated Monroe Doctrine,^ a great friend of Miss 
Paterson, Jerome Bonaparte's first wife, and one of 
Mme Campan's most grateful pupils ; Mile Hervas de 
Menara,^ the daughter of a rich banker of that name, 
and at that time "the prettiest litde creature which 
has ever been confided to my care ; she is witty, 
sensible, and good-natured." 

In December 1801 these young ladies embroidered 
a map of the French Republic, after which Mile 

"^ James Monroe (i 758-1 831) was a volunteer during the War of 
Independence ; he fought very bravely at the battle of Brandy wine and 
was made colonel by Washington. After the war he was appointed 
Minister Plenipotentiary to the French Government, but was recalled 
from this mission in 1796 by President Washington, who blamed him 
extremely severely for having submitted too humbly to the overbearing 
policy of the Directoire. He was, however, sent to London in the same 
capacity. He was instrumental in obtaining Louisiana for the United 
States, and in 1 817 he was made President of the United States, being 
re-elected in 1821. He negotiated the purchase of Florida and 
endeavoured to put an end to slavery. 

^ Mile Hervas de Menara eventually married Duroc, Hortense's 
first love, and perhaps the only man for whom Hortense ever 
really cared. 

265 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

Cel^nie Dupuis, the daughter of one of the richest 
Hnen-manufacturers of Saint-Quentin, wrote the 
names of the workers in her best copy-book hand- 
writing behind the map, which was then presented to 
the First Consul as a token of affection and esteem. 

Mme Campan used in her old age to tell an 
anecdote of how, while walking in the beautiful forest 
of Saint-Germain with Mr. Monroe and his little 
daughter Eliza, in those days when France seemed 
drifting hither and thither at the mercy of any stray 
adventurer with a gift for despotism, the future 
President of the United States remarked : — 

"Fortune lies in the gutter; anybody who takes 
the trouble to bend down can pick it up ! " 

He then went on to say what a much finer country 
America was than France, whereupon little Eliza 
burst in with : — 

" Yes, papa, but we haven't any roads like this" — 
pointing to the fine, smooth road bordered with mag- 
nificent trees along which they were then walking. 

" That's true," replied Mr. Monroe ; "our country 
may be likened to a new house, we lack many things, 
but we possess the most precious of all — liberty ! " 

It was on January 4, 1802, that Hortense de 
Beauharnais and Louis Bonaparte were married in 
the little hotel in the rue de la Victoire, Paris, formerly 
occupied by General Bonaparte before he moved to 
the Petit- Luxembourg ; when a religious ceremony 
united Caroline and Murat at the same time in the 
bonds of holy matrimony, for the marriage of 
January 20, 1800, had been merely a civil ceremony. 
On this occasion Cardinal Caprera blessed the two 
couples. Mme Campan, who was present, noticed, 

266 



SIGNING OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS 

with many misgivings for the future, that her " Petite 
Bonne's" eyes were frequently dimmed with tears. 

Hortense's marriage made no difference in her 
affection for her kind friend. It was she who, two 
days after the signing of the Peace of Amiens/ sent 
the joyful news to Saint-Germain, whereupon Mme 
Campan wrote thanking her : " You are a little angel 
to send me news of the signing of the Peace. Long 
live Bonaparte ! will always be the cry of every 
honest-minded person who loves not only his country, 
but also humanity. What a position he has taken 
up ! He has brought peace to the entire universe. 
In the shadow of what a great man you now live! 
What a glorious name you bear, my dear child ! . . . 
I gave the children a holiday to-day in honour of the 
Peace. The elder girls had a tea-party with a big 
gateau de plomb^ (sic). It was a beautiful fete! . . ." 

On the occasion of the promulgation of the 
Concordat in the spring of 1802, a solemn Te Deum 
was sung in the cathedral of Notre Dame. Naturally 
there was a great demand for seats to view the 
ceremony, and, as is usually the case on such 
occasions, those who had the smallest claims to the 
best places were the most exacting. Mme Campan's 
former pupil Mme Moreau and her mother, Mme 
Hulot, being unable to obtain what they considered 
suitable places, determined to go early so as to take 
the pick of the unreserved seats. Now the gallery 
had been reserved for Mme Bonaparte and her 
numerous suite, so that she would not be obliged to 
come to the building until quite near the hour fixed 

^ Signed March 25, 1802. 
* The good lady probably meant plum-cake. 
267 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

for the ceremony. Mme Hulot was the first to 
remark that the gallery was still empty ; so she told 
her daughter to keep close, and elbowed her way 
through the crowd until she arrived panting and per- 
spiring at the foot of the stair leading to the delect- 
able land. Here, however, stood a soldier, who 
refused to allow her to occupy the seats, which he 
informed her were reserved for Mme Bonaparte and 
her suite. But Mme Hulot had not played the part 
of mother-in-law for some years without having learnt 
some of the tricks of the trade. Words are wasted 
on such occasions. A well-directed dig in the ribs 
made the sentry totter for a moment ; before he could 
recover his equilibrium the two females pushed by 
him, scuttled up the staircase and plumped themselves 
down on the red velvet chairs reserved for Mme 
Bonaparte and Madame Mere. And here they were 
still sitting, deaf alike to prayers and threats — the 
First Consul had heard the scuffling in the gallery — 
when Mme Bonaparte appeared upon the scene ; she 
was sensible enough to take no notice of the two ill- 
bred creatures and to seat herself at the end of an 
empty bench. 

Mme Campan made a rule, after the signing of 
the Peace of Amiens, to give a gratuitous education 
to ten poor girls. In this same year (1802) she was 
able to lay aside 20,000 francs, notwithstanding the 
fact that she had to have one hundred pupils, each 
paying 1200 francs a-year, before she could pay all 
her expenses. That Peace, however, was not of long 
duration : with the first rumours of war ten English 
misses who were at Saint-Germain were fetched home 
by their parents, while some others who had only just 

268 



THE BRAVEST OF THE BRAVE 

landed at Boulogne and Calais, and were preparing 
to start for Saint-Germain, took the next boat back to 
E norland. 

Among the handsome women and girls who 
adorned the Consular Court was Mile Egl^ Auguie, 
Mme Campan's niece and the daughter of poor Mme 
Augui^, who had taken her own life rather than 
perish by the guillotine. The First Consul had 
given the widower a fairly lucrative post, which 
enabled him and his two daughters to live comfort- 
ably at the chateau of Grignon, near Versailles. 
Mme Bonaparte took an interest in the girls, and 
determined to find husbands for them. She had not 
far to seek for EgM ; for General Ney, miscalled " the 
Bravest of the Brave," fell in love with the girl's 
sweet face on their first meeting in January 1802. 
An invitation to Grignon in the following month was 
easily obtained ; not so the favour of the pretty Egl6, 
however, for Ney's appearance was against him. 
First of all, he was not a carpet-knight, and disdained 
the small-talk which was considered suitable for the 
ladies of the Consular Court, and then his ploughboy 
appearance was further spoilt by bunches of red 
whiskers ; these, however, he sacrificed when he dis- 
covered that Mile EgM did not share his admiration 
for them. 

In the month of May, Mme Bonaparte, with Ney's 
consent, wrote to M. Augui^, saying that she hoped 
he would bestow Mile Egle's hand on Ney, who was 
well fitted in every way to be her companion through 
life. On this occasion. Mile Egle's wishes were as 
completely ignored as those of Emilie de Beauharnais 
and Aim^e Leclerc had been on similar occasions. 

269 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Nevertheless on July 27 the marriage- settlemeiit 
was made and signed. Ney's fortune consisted of 
the property of La Petite Malgrange, near Nancy, 
valued at 80,000 francs, besides 12,000 francs in 
money and furniture ; Mile EgM possessed a fourth 
share in land situated in San Domingo, representing 
an income of 5000 francs, a dowry of 60,000 francs, 
and a handsome trousseau. When Ney gave his 
fiancee his first present, always the most valued, he 
apologized for its meanness in the following touching 
little speech : — 

" I cannot offer you pearls and diamonds, but 
here is my sword, which I have always maintained 
should be used to win glory and not riches." 

On August 6, the chapel belonging to the chateau 
of Grignon, decorated under the painter Isabey's 
superintendence with draperies, flowers, foliage, and 
candles, was filled with a crowd of distinguished 
guests assembled to witness the marriage of Egl6 
Augui^ and Michel Ney, the bride being dressed 
very simply in white, according to the sensible French 
custom, the bridegroom resplendent in full uniform, 
and wearing a jewelled sword, a wedding-gift from 
that most generous friend. Napoleon. A quaint note 
was struck by the presence of two old farm-servants 
who were celebrating their golden wedding in new 
clothes provided by the bride and bridegroom. It 
had been Ney's wish that these honest souls should 
share in the festivities, "for," said he, "their fifty 
years of happy married life would be a good omen for 
his wedding, and they would remind him of his 
humble origin."^ 

* The Bravest of the Brave, by A. Hilliard Atteridge. 
270 



THE HAPPY DAYS OF MME CAMP AN 

Of course Maman Campan, as aunt and governess 
of the bride, was one of the most honoured guests. 
Various entertainments, such as dancing, illuminations, 
fireworks, a concert performed by some peasant-girls, 
etc., amused the relatives and friends. During a pause 
in all this merry-making the happy pair were invited 
to enter a rustic hut in which Isabey and Mme 
Campan, disguised as gipsies, offered to tell the bride's 
fortune, which Egl^'s aunt prophesied would be as 
cloudless as the blue dome of heaven above the 
pair. 

In the month of October 1802,^ Mme Campan 
learnt that " Petite Bonne " had given birth to her 
first child. Napoleon Louis. How human is the 
following letter written by Maman Campan, whose 
heart was not too old to remember how close her 
own child — alas ! the only one — had nestled against 
her breast: — 

"... They tell me that M. Louis displayed the 
greatest graciousness and tenderness for the mother 
of his dear little one. I was delighted to hear it, as 
I am sure she was to be the object of such solicitude. 
He is kind-hearted, and was probably deeply moved 
— but I know the Mama of the dear Napoleon in the 
cradle — did she allow him to perceive her gratitude ? 
" Adieu, my dear angel, I kiss the little one in his 
cradle. Remember me to his dear Papa. ..." 

In the above letter we find the first hint that 
matters were not going as smoothly with the babe's 
parents as they ought to have done ; in another letter 
written soon after, Mme Campan says : — 

*' Kiss the beautiful Napoleon for me. People 
^ Napoleon Louis was born October 10, 1802. 
271 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

already talk a great deal about him ; they say that he 
is prodigiously greedy ! " 

Poor Hortense was always her own enemy. 
Rumours of the little rift within the lute had already 
reached the ears of the kind old lady at Saint- 
Germain, who was beginning to entertain fears for 
the future of her favourite. Mme Campan was well 
aware that when once the pupil had spread her wings, 
good advice had very little chance of being followed ; 
that was why she endeavoured to mould the young 
characters while they were still malleable. 

During the winter of 1802-03, she told Hortense 
how Stephanie de Beauharnais, who "has much im- 
proved, works hard and gives promise of doing 
honour to her governess if she continues to persevere," 
went to see a poor woman who had just given birth 
to triplets. "We immediately purchased two sets of 
baby-linen and gave them to the mother with some 
money. This striking spectacle of extreme poverty 
is the best way to make young ladies become ac- 
quainted with, and love alms-giving." She concludes 
with a request that Hortense will contribute forty- 
eight francs and Mme Bonaparte a few louis with 
which to furnish the poor mother's little room. 

But the young ladies had other pleasures more 
natural to their age ; picnics have always been a 
favourite amusement with the French nation, and 
an expedition to the neighbouring forest of Saint- 
Germain was looked upon as the most delightful way 
of spending a long summer day. On June 29, 1803, 
Mme Campan writes to Hortense, urging her to come 
and spend the day with her former companions: 
" Everything shall be ready for Monday, my dear 

272 



THE HAPPY DAYS OF MME CAMPAN 

angel ; only let M. d'Aneucourt know in good time 
as to the summer-house ; I have chosen this spot 
because there is a kitchen, a shelter, etc., and because 
it is the finest part of the forest, and farthest away 
from the town. I will bring wine and beer ; the 
doctor has promised me some excellent cider ; I shall 
also have ices, a baba, a Savoy cake, a quantity of 
cutlets already prepared so that they can be cooked 
in the summer-house, new-laid eggs, a chicken, 
tartlets, and cherries. Carry the rest, my dear 
children ! I have only invited some of the bigger 
girls whom you knew in the old days and a few little 
ones who were recommended to me by you or your 
Mama, viz. Victorine Victor, little Clarke, and Nancy 
Macdonald,^ which will make about twenty. I have 
a guinguette ^ for the little ones and for the provisions. 
The doctor and M. Bernard ^ will come with us ; I am 
bringing M. Bdguin with his violin to play us a few 
waltzes. It will be a real school-picnic, but I shall 
do my best to make it agreeable ; as for me, I could 
not pass a happier day than when you are with me. 
If only the weather is fine ! Adieu, my dear angel." 

We can see the little ones, almost delirious with 
delight, jumping in and out of the guingzLette until it 
is time to start, making voyages of discovery with 
inquisitive little fore-fingers among baskets filled with 
delicious things, and wondering whether each par- 
ticular sweet tooth will get what she likes best ; the 
bigger girls, arm-in-arm, walking on ahead, admiring 

1 Daughter of Marshal Macdonald (i 765-1 840), due de Tarente, 
who fought for France during the wars of the Republic and the Empire. 
* K guinguette is a sort of omnibus. 
' The chaplain of Mme Campan's Seminary. 

s 273 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

Hortense's pretty clothes and secretly taking hints 
for their new autumn costumes, asking questions 
about the beautiful Napoleon in his cradle and wish- 
ing that they, too, were out in the world. And then, 
when the gztingueite, drawn by two sleek white 
percherons^ unexpectedly sets off at a brisk pace, 
throwing the little ones in a heap on to one of the 
seats, where they settle themselves after a great deal 
of patting of starched muslin flounces and pulling out 
of ringlets from beneath Leghorn bonnets, the green 
avenues of the forest re-echo with shrill cries, rippling 
laughter, and snatches of sweet melody. 

Many of Hortense's particular friends had already 
left the nest, but the granddaughters of Mme de 
Genlis, the demoiselles de Valence, one of whom 
later became Mme de Celles, and the other the wife 
of Mar^chal Gerard, were certainly there. Mme 
Campan's niece, Agathe Rousseau, later Mme de Saint- 
Elme, was still at Saint-Germain, as was probably 
Eliza Monroe — also the two Miles de Castellane, 
whose mother had died in the greatest poverty, 
leaving three daughters penniless ; Mme Bonaparte, 
however, had promised the poor mother on her death- 
bed to look after her children, and had sent two of the 
three to Mme Campan, and paid for their education. 
When the Empress was living a divorcee at La 
Malmaison, she had pretty Louise de Castellane to 
reside with her, and eventually married her to M. 
Fritz de Pourtales, formerly an officer on Berthier's 
staff, descended from a French Protestant family 
which had emigrated to Switzerland after the revoca- 

^ Horses from the French province of Le Perche, noted for their 
beauty and strength. 

274 



MARRIAGE OF ANTOINETTE AUGUllfi 

tion of the Edict of Nantes, gave her a dowry of 
100,000 francs, together with jewels, and a trousseau 
suitable for a princess. 

Unfortunately Hortense did not always content 
herself with such innocent amusements, for she imitated 
Maman Campan's former mistress in that she was 
fond of going about masked, and the Folies-Beaujon, 
Frascati, and the Pavilion d'Hanovre were frequently 
visited by Mme Louis Bonaparte and her party of 
noisy friends. 

It was not long before Mme Ney's sister, 
Antoinette Augui^, found a husband in the person of 
M. Charles Gamot, about whom little is known, except 
that he was a good husband, and, although he accepted 
the post of prefect of Yonne from the hand of Louis 
xviii, flew to the Emperor's side when Napoleon 
returned from Elba — for which act of gratitude M. 
Gamot was told to give up his post when the king 
returned from his visit to Ghent. Soon after her 
marriage, Mme Gamot had a serious illness which 
would probably have ended fatally had not the First 
Consul's physician, the celebrated Corvisart, been 
called in. Her aunt writes : — 

" Mme Gamot is very ill ; her life has been in 
danger ; her condition even now is not very reassuring. 
She has seen Corvisart, whose advice has been of the 
greatest benefit. When her friends first proposed 
that she should consult him, she exclaimed : ' I would 
rather die than see that cross-grained wretch.' This 
polite speech was repeated to the doctor, who, when 
he saw that his patient was getting better, told her 
that all the Paris newspapers had reproduced her 
speech. The poor woman was so overcome that she 

275 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

covered her head with the bedclothes. In short, the 
doctor has been so kind that she no longer calls him a 
* cross-grained wretch.' " 

In the early spring of 1804 Mme Campan was a 
frequent visitor at La Malmaison ; she was in high 
favour with the family of the First Consul, Caroline 
Murat even going the length of lending her former 
governess her cook when Mme Campan wanted an 
especially good dinner prepared for her pupils' parents 
on prize-giving day. 

Mme Campan, seeing how popular she was with 
her former pupils, thought that she might obtain a post 
for her son Henri, whose talents she considered were 
wasted at Marseilles. With this idea in her mind she 
wrote to Hortense : — 

" I am going to beg the First Consul to be so 
kind as to obtain for my son, Henri, a position which 
will suit his tastes and make for my happiness ; this 
is the first time I have ever dared to ask for anything 
for myself ; the post is a humble one, suitable to his 
years. . . . Tell your dear Mama what I am going to 
do, and ask her to plead for me. I want to get my 
son the position of inspector in the new financial 
company which is being inaugurated ; the place is 
suitable for a young man ; appointments in the 
customs, post-office, etc., are usually given to men of 
his age." 

When Napoleon in May 1804 made himself 
Emperor, Mme Campan took yet another step higher 
up the social ladder. Comte F^dor Golowkine 
says : — 

" Napoleon found he needed a Court, whereupon 
he immediately instituted one ; this was an easy 

276 



SUCCESS OF MME CAMPAN 

matter, but it was not so easy to make that Court 
refined and polished. He sent to ask the advice of 
the princesse de Chimay, lady-in-waiting to Marie 
Antoinette, who was living in retirement in Paris. 
Her reply to Duroc was short but noble : ' Tell your 
master that I only remember the queen's kindness 
towards me.' As he could get nothing out of the 
lady-in-waiting, he had to content himself with Mme 
Campan. The latter, only too delighted to push her- 
self and her nieces forward, replied very cautiously : 
' My position in the queen's household did not allow 
me to judge of the manners at Court. The only thing 
which struck me was that the ladies of quality were 
very dignified ; they never raised their voices, and 
used very few gestures.' This made such an impres- 
sion that, at the coronation, the self-styled princesses 
and their maids-of-honour would scarcely move, lest 
their elbows should be seen sticking out, and they 
hardly dared open their mouths to reply to any 
questions. ..." 

One historian sums up the matter thus : " Mme 
Campan's establishment at Saint-Germain," says he, 
" was the hyphen, so to speak, between the courtly 
Past of Versailles and the brilliant Present of the 
Imperial Court." 

Napoleon, realizing this fact, turned to Mme 
Campan to help him arrange his Court. No wonder 
that lady, writing to Hortense, says : — 

" Thanks to my former position, and to the present 
kindness of your august family, I have lately received 
at least sixty petitions or letters begging me to under- 
take the education of various litde girls ; I have been 
obliged to write polite refusals." 

277 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Many of Mme Campaii's former pupils were now 
adorning the Imperial Court with their presence, and 
of these Hortense was naturally the most popular. 
M. Hector Fleischmann, in his Dessous de Princesses 
et Mardchales de V Empire, tells an amusing anecdote 
of Hortense, whose talent for music and painting were 
quite remarkable for a princess. It is true that, a 
propos of the first-named art, General Thi^bault very 
unkindly remarks : " The Songs of Queen Hortense ; 
words by Forbin, melodies by Plantade, accompani- 
ments by Carbonnel " ; nevertheless Hortense really 
loved music for its own sake. It seems that she was 
very proud of her long, pink, almond-shaped finger- 
nails, and that she spent some time every day polishing 
and trimming them. Now when she, as an Imperial 
princess, wanted to take lessons on the harp from the 
celebrated d'Alvimare, she was horrified to hear him 
call them " claws," and beg her to cut them, or she 
would never be able to play really well. To which 
she replied that she could never find courage to spoil 
their shape. However, her love for music got the 
better of her, and after a good deal of persuasion she 
sent for a pair of scissors, closed her eyes and told 
her master to consummate the sacrifice, whereupon 
Alvimare set to work and soon cut the " claws " to a 
suitable length. 

In October 1804 another of Mme Campan's 
pupils was married from the Seminary at Saint- 
Germain. The bride was Mile Benezech, the 
daughter of a former Secretary of State for the Home 
Department, while the bridegroom was Colonel Marx, 
a Belgian. Great must have been the disappointment 
of the little pupils when it was announced that " as the 

278 



AMBITIOUS PLANS 

colonel had invited several generals to witness his 
marriage, it was not thought seemly for any of the 
young ladies to be visible on that occasion." It would 
have been very remarkable, however, if some of the 
dozens of inquisitive little Eves who inhabited Maman 
Campan's Eden had not managed, by dint of con- 
cealing themselves behind curtains, or bribing servants 
to leave doors open, to get a first-rate view of the 
happy pair and their whiskered, ear-ringed military 
guests. 

For some time past Mme Campan had been 
nourishing a plan by which she hoped to get her 
establishment officially recognized as an Imperial 
Educational Institution. In January 1805 she begs 
Hortense "not to forget this project ; remember that 
it would give pleasure to the entire army, that it 
would shed glory on, and be a source of much interest 
to, your dear Mama and your Highness, and it would 
make me inexpressibly happy." 

The Emperor seems to have approved of the 
plan, for a month later she writes again : — 

"You need only insist upon the fact that the chief 
establishment must remain at Saint-Germain. Accord- 
ing to his Majesty's scheme, there would be a principal 
establishment for the daughters of military men or 
functionaries ; they would pay 300 francs per annum, 
so that they would not be quite penniless girls ; in the 
departments of France there would be four gratuitous 
establishments conducted on different lines for penni- 
less girls ; the girls in my house who paid 300 francs 
a-year would receive the surplus of their pension 
from the Government. I myself should prefer to 
remain at Saint-Germain, where the air is very pure, 

279 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

where I am loved and considered necessary to the 
well-being of the place. . . . But my house is not 
large enough to serve as an Imperial Educational 
Establishment, and it is as much as I can do to lodge 
one hundred boarders in my rambling old abode. I 
could never find room for two hundred and sixty. 
As the Emperor has not used the Lyc^e of Versailles, 
and as the building is superb and all ready for 
habitation, people cry : ' Mme Campan is coming ! ' 
The principal walks up and down his vast dormitories 
alone ; he is disconsolate, fears that the rumour may 
be only too well founded, and will surely do his 
best to prevent me obtaining the convent at Ver- 
sailles. . . . Perhaps my request will be refused ; how- 
ever, it is better for the inhabitants of Saint-Germain 
that I should obey the Emperor. If I remained here, 
the hotel d'Harcourt would have to be purchased, 
which would cost 100,000 francs, and 200,000 francs 
would have to be spent on building ; one cannot 
accomplish grand things with bad tools." 

However, Mme Campan was not to leave Saint- 
Germain for some months. 

Hortense was a good friend, not only to her 
former schoolmistress, but also to her former school- 
fellows. Mme Campan's niece, Agathe Rousseau, 
now the wife of a tax-collector, M. Bourboulon de 
Saint-Elme, had cause to be grateful to Mme Louis 
Bonaparte, who obtained for her friend's husband an 
important position at Laon. 

Some of Hortense's friends, however, expected 
her to do too much for them ; great was Eliza 
Monroe's disappointment when she discovered that 
Hortense could not get her an invitation to the balls 

280 



JOSEPHINE MISTRUSTS MME NEY 

given by Caroline Murat at her chateau at Neuilly, 
because her sister-in-law was a great respecter of 
etiquette, and, as the sister of an Emperor, could not 
be expected to receive the daughter of an honest 
Republican. 

During the spring of 1805 the reputation of one 
of Mme Campan's nieces very nearly suffered owing 
to the Empress's stupid jealousy. Josephine had dis- 
covered that her husband was engaged in an intrigue 
with some lady unknown ; she took it into her head 
that the object of his affections was Mme Ney, 
although that lady's behaviour had always been above 
reproach. Now the person who had attracted the 
Emperor's fancy was Mme Duchatel, with whom 
Caroline Murat had not so long ago fancied, rightly 
or wrongly, that her husband was in love. After 
slighting Mme Ney on every occasion, and making 
herself and everybody else miserable, Josephine 
plucked up courage and had an explanation with the 
supposed culprit, when Mme Ney was able to con- 
vince the Empress that, far from being flattered by 
Napoleon's attentions, they had only terrified her, and 
made her feel utterly miserable. 

Mme Campan, knowing her niece's disposition, 
could have had but little fears for her reputation ; 
however, there was another young person about 
whom she was really anxious, and that was Stephanie 
de Beauharnais, who, in April 1805, went to stay 
with her cousin Hortense at Saint- Leu, where she 
enjoyed herself so much that Mme Campan had to 
write "Petite Bonne" the following letter before the 
young lady would consent to return to the fold : — 

" I beg your Highness to send Mile de Beauhar- 

281 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

nais back as soon as possible ; the Emperor will 
question her on his return, and, although I am quite 
innocent, I shall be blamed for her ignorance. Kindly 
remind her of the advantages to be reaped from a 
good education, and to listen to me. ... I could 
make a charming woman of this young girl, but not 
if she remains at Saint-Cloud. So, if you can, try 
and arrange so that Stephanie is left with me until 
she marries ; by so doing, you will be a benefactor, 
not only to her, but to me also, for I shall surely 
be accused of having spoilt her education by the 
Emperor, who, with his penetrating glance, says : 
* That's right ! ' or ' That's wrong ! ' but has no time 
to examine the reason thereof." 

Stephanie de Beauharnais' progress was said to 
be hindered by that other Stephanie, Mile Tascher 
de La Pagerie, whose feeble constitution made her 
indolent and prevented her working, and who was 
altogether a bad example to her cousin. 

In the spring of 1805 another little pupil was 
brought to Mme Campan's establishment by a no 
less important personage than the Prince of Nassau- 
Siegen. This child, named Pholo6, was reported to 
be the prince's natural daughter ; but Mme Campan 
was given to understand when she took charge of the 
little thing that she was the child of an officer of 
illustrious birth, belonging to one of the oldest 
families in Lacedsemon. 

Mme Campan promised the child's self-imposed 
princely guardian to bring up little Pholo^ to be a 
useful member of society, so that she would avoid the 
pitfalls into which the celebrated beauty Aiss4 the 
history of whose birth and education was somewhat 

282 



THE ORPHANS OF AUSTERLITZ 

similar, had fallen. In one of her letters Maman 
Campan prays Heaven that she may be able to 
preserve this child, whom she calls " too pretty," 
from all evil. 

Mme Campan's friends about this time included 
the wily Talleyrand ; in this same year he actually 
condescended to visit her establishment, and, what 
was more important, express his approval of her 
method of teaching. 

Those were the days of France's glory. An 
amusing story is told of one of Mme Campan's little 
pupils who was struggling through the history of 
her fatherland ; on hearing of fresh victories, nearly 
a daily event, the little maid heaved a deep sigh of 
pity for the future students of that history, and re- 
marked : " What a lot the poor little things who 
come after us will have to learn ! " 

On the morrow of the battle of Austerlitz 
(December 2, 1805) Napoleon definitely accepted 
the plan which Mme Campan had cherished for so 
many months, by signing a decree by which he 
adopted the daughters of the brave fellows who had 
won that battle for him, promising to have them 
educated and taught to earn their living, if necessary. 

At first Mme Campan was anxious that the 
chateau of Saint-Germain should be used as the 
educational establishment for the daughters of the 
Legion of Honour, with herself as directress, for which 
post her experience in matters of education, hygiene, 
and economy had qualified her. She writes to 
Hortense in January 1806 : — 

"... The Emperor will soon be back. Be so 
kind as to display the same interest which you have 

283 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

hitherto taken in my fate. How happy I should be 
supposing our hero were to consider me capable of 
carrying out his design ! If he says to you : ' Mme 
Campan's proposal does not suit me,' — tell him, I beg 
you, the truth. * She proposed this in order to please 
you, her one idea was to carry out your orders, and 
she will obey you no matter what those orders may 
be. Accomplishments, or no accomplishments, it is 
all the same to her ; she can either give the orphans 
the simplest or the most brilliant education.' ..." 

It seems strange to think that Mme Campan, 
notwithstanding her credit at Court, should have 
continually been in quest of a suitable post for her son, 
Henri. In February 1806 she writes to Hortense that 
she hopes to obtain " a position as auditor for her son ; 
this expectation, which is practically certain to be 
realized, will compensate him for the eight nomina- 
tions which have lately been made. He is now 
twenty-two years of age, and it is very natural that 
he should wish to be somebody, and occupy some 
honourable position." 

In this same month she obtained an interview 
with M. Daru, before that gentleman started for Berlin, 
where he was to occupy the post of Minister Pleni- 
potentiary. At first M. Daru seemed inclined to 
think that the education given to the orphans of 
Austerlitz by Marie Antoinette's former waiting- 
woman would not be sufficiently practical, whereupon 
she hastened to reassure him : — 

" Do not imagine," said she, "that I should teach 
the girls to dance gavottes and sing comic opera airs ; 
only those whom the Emperor designated would 
receive instruction in music and dancing ; the rest of 

284 



MARRIAGE OF STEPHANIE 

the education would be practical and religious ; they 
would learn dressmaking, needlework, would make the 
household linen, embroider furniture for the Imperial 
family " 

" Well," remarked M. Daru, still unconvinced, 
** and then what would they do when their education 
was finished ? " 

"We would make good and virtuous wives of 
them ; with a dowry of 500 or 600 livres we could 
marry them to business men, soldiers, etc." 

This was a conclusive argument. 

Two months later Stephanie de Beauharnais left 
Mme Campan's kind care in order to marry the 
hereditary prince of Baden, whom Napoleon, by the 
Treaty of Presburg, had deprived of his fiancee, the 
charming princess Augusta- Amelia, giving her to his 
adopted son, Eugene de Beauharnais. 

Mme dAbrantes speaks thus of Stephanie, at 
that time seventeen years of age : " I have seen few 
women who have seemed to me more pleasing than 
Mile Stephanie de Beauharnais was at that time. Not 
only did she possess all the advantages necessary to 
a woman of the world, but she was also endowed with 
everything which pleases : graciousness, good manners, 
a charming face, and an elegant figure. She pleased 
every one with her pretty features and prepossessing 
manner. She was vastly admired by gentlemen, for 
which fault the ladies forgave her because she was 
always kind and ever ready to be obliging." 

Mme dAbrantes draws the bridegroom in a very 
unfavourable light : " He was the most disagreeable 
person I have ever met. He looked like a naughty 
boy in disgrace, besides which he was not at all 

285 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

handsome. In short, he was a most disagreeable 
prince, and above all, a very disagreeable lover." 

The Emperor gave the lovely Stephanie a 
magnificent wedding ; when he took her hand to lead 
her to the chapel, a murmur of admiration at her 
splendid jewels and dress, the gifts of Napoleon and 
Josephine, arose from the assembled guests. 

M. Frederic Lolide gives an amusing account of 
the bridal procession to the chapel, when Napoleon 
hurried the bride along far too quickly to please 
Talleyrand, who had to head the cortege, and could 
hardly hobble on account of his lameness, to the 
great disgust of the Empress, who wished to look her 
best, and the guests who formed the tail of the pro- 
cession, and wanted to see the effect of their fine 
clothes on the crowd. In vain did the chamberlains 
urge the head and tail to keep in step with the bride 
and the Emperor, who was in a hurry to "get it all 
over as soon as possible." But alas ! Talleyrand and 
the guests would not be hurried, so that the procession 
was constantly dislocated. 

A magnificent wedding-breakfast was afterwards 
given at the palace of the Tuileries. 

The prince was really very much in love with his 
bride. Soon after the wedding he paid a visit to 
Mme Campan. "He stayed half an hour talking to 
me," she tells Hortense ; "he said such flattering 
things concerning my system of education and my 
own person that I dare not repeat them, and he 
seemed so delighted with his young wife that I feel I 
ought to tell your Majesty. ' Every day,' said he, 
' I feel more satisfied with the princess, and I wish to 
tell you, Madame, that she possesses genuine principles 

286 



THE STORY OF A TRAGEDY 

of virtue, piety, modesty, and an immense fund of 
wit ; in four years' time she will be a perfect princess.' 
He then added : * Her destiny is indeed an astonishing 
one, but she is fit to fill the position, as she will prove.' 
In short, he sees her with the eyes of a lover; she 
must be very happy." 

When Stephanie went to her new home she took 
with her, as her ladies-in-waiting, two of her school- 
fellows, Miles Nelly Bourjolie and Antoinette de 
Mackau. 

The prince of Baden at first did his best to please 
his wife ; however, he soon discovered that the pretty 
Stephanie had only accepted him for his title and 
fortune, and that she was a born coquette into the 
bargain. Napoleon and Josephine were frequently 
called in to make peace between the unhappy 
creatures. 

Stephanie had five children, three daughters and 
two sons, not including the mysterious Kaspar 
Hauser,^ if indeed he was her son. Stephanie's two 
legitimate sons both died very suddenly ; the death of 
the eldest one was particularly painful, owing to the 
fact that his mother was not allowed to see him while 
he was dying, nor even when he was dead. 

^ The mysterious boy, Kaspar Hauser, when discovered at 
Nuremberg in 1828, could scarcely speak, did not know his name or his 
age or from whence he came, and apparently seemed to have lived the 
life of a recluse. He held in his hand a letter addressed to an officer at 
Nuremberg, in which it was said that he was born in 1812, and that his 
father was in a Bavarian cavalry regiment. Kaspar was confided to the 
care of a schoolmaster, his board and education being paid by charity. 
Lord Stanhope displayed much interest in him. On two or three 
occasions mysterious attempts were made to murder him, and in 1833 
he was so cruelly wounded by some person unknown that he died. 
During his last moments he frequently called out : " Mother ! mother ! 
come to me ! " 

287 



CHAPTER XIV 

Extravagance of Napoleon's cuisinieres — The Emperor deputes Mmp 
de Lavalette to curb Josephine's passion for spending — Hortense 
becomes queen of Holland — Mme Campan's plans appear likely to 
miscarry — She is appointed directress of the Establishment of the 
Legion of Honour at Ecouen — A girls' boarding-school during the 
Empire. 

Extravagance was a failing from which many of the 
beautiful women at the Imperial Court suffered ; two 
of Napoleon's cuisinieres^ Mmes Savary and Maret, 
spent from 50,000 to 60,000 francs a year on their 
toilette during their reign of prosperity. Even Mme 
Ney, whose husband, the Lion rouge, had about one 
million francs a year, managed to get rid of 4000 
francs' worth of underclothing in twelve months, while 
Caroline Murat spent 30,000 francs at the shop of M. 
Leroy, the self-styled Empereur du don ton, in the 
space of a few months. 

In 1806 Napoleon, anxious to curb Josephine's 
ever-increasing extravagance, appointed Mme de 
Lavalette to act as housekeeper to his wife. After 
spending some time in Berlin and Dresden, where 
Mme de Lavalette, notwithstanding her rather shy 
manners, had won all hearts, M. de Lavalette had 
lately returned with his family to France, when he was 
given the post of steward. Mme de Lavalette had 
one little girl born in 1802, and named Josephine^ 
^ This little Josephine afterwards became the baronne de Forget. 

288 



NAPOLEON DISLIKES AILING WOMEN 

after her successful cousin, who, however, treated the 
child and her mother as if they were poor relations. 
Emilie de Lavalette had nearly lost her life at the 
birth of her little daughter, and in fact she never 
really recovered her health, so that the long hours of 
standing about in the heated rooms of the Tuileries 
soon became a positive torture to her. And it must 
be confessed that the Emperor was not always very 
sympathetic ; for when Mme de Lavalette was obliged, 
on account of a sick headache, to remain absent from 
any of those brilliant ceremonies which he liked to see 
adorned by Emilie's lovely face, he would say to 
Josephine : — 

"Is she always going to be ill ? . . . Well, well ! 
send her to get strong at Nice ! " 

Now although Mme de Lavalette was an 
economical housekeeper, and capable of brewing an 
excellent pot-au-feu, she was quite unable to make 
any alteration in Josephine's habits, being handicapped 
from the very beginning by another of the Empress's 
ladies, Mme Hamelin, who encouraged her mistress 
to be extravagant on every occasion. 

When, in June 1806, Louis Bonaparte was made 
king of Holland by his wonderful brother, Mme 
Campan wrote volumes of good advice to Hortense. 
including a brief history of the country over which her 
favourite was about to rule, recommending her not to 
believe Anquetil,^ who in his work upon Holland 
says : " That land is inhabited by the demon of gold, 
crowned with a wreath of tobacco leaves, and seated 
on a throne made of cheeses." 

^ Anquetil, Paul (1723-1806), an author of some note, director of the 
College of Rheims and a member of the Institut de France. 
T 289 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Hortense was certainly a good friend to her old 
schoolfellows ; in the midst of her splendour she found 
time to procure a lucrative post for the father of 
Eliza de Lally-Tollendal. This gentleman, suspecting 
that his daughter's schoolmistress had had something 
to do in the matter, wrote to Mme Campan : — 

" I shall no longer go to bed with the thought : If 
I die of apoplexy during the night, I shall leave my 
child without a sou in the world." 

Hortense, who had had a hand in the marriage of 
Egl^ Ney, n^e Augui^ which marriage had turned 
out most happily, now endeavoured to find a husband 
for Egl^'s sister, Adele, who, her good aunt rather 
unkindly remarks, " has no time to lose." 

Mar^chal Duroc promised to look about for a 
suitable party. After a good deal of " looking about," 
and various embarrassing " interviews," Mile Adele 
expressed herself willing to marry the mardchal de 
Broc, Grand-Marshal to the Court of Holland, and 
thus she became lady-in-waiting to her friend Hortense. 

Hortense was also so kind as to invite little Pholo6 
to come and visit her in her new home, whereupon 
Mile Pholo6 got out her prettiest notepaper and 
wrote, in her best copy-book style, to little prince 
Napoleon, his first letter, in which she "presents her 
respects to the baby prince, and says she hopes to 
come to Holland next spring." 

In 1806 Mme Campan inherited the sum of 
8000 francs from an old friend, M. Chaumauri^ with 
which she purchased a little farm in the pretty valley 
of Chevreuse, "very close to the Muses, for my 
garden gate is just opposite that of M. de Boufiflers, 
where the Abbe Delille often goes into retirement in 

290 



MME CAMPAN THINKS OF RETIRING 

order to compose his tuneful verses and polish his 
sparkling tirades." 

During the winter of 1806-7 Mme Campan's son 
spent some months in Berlin seeking for the long- 
expected position which at one time seemed likely to 
await him in Poland ; but in February 1 807 he was 
back in Paris, where his mother hoped he would 
obtain the post of auditor, when she proposed to make 
him a yearly allowance of 6000 francs. 

In this same month Mme Campan, fearing that 
Napoleon was not going to appoint her directress of 
the Imperial Educational Establishment which he 
was about to create at Ecouen as she had hoped he 
would do at one time, had serious thoughts of retiring 
into private life, for she wrote to Hortense asking her 
to obtain a pension of 2000 francs a year for her, so 
that she could cultivate her little farm, and pay visits 
to her "Petite Bonne" and princess Stephanie of 
Baden ; she adds that she would prefer to devote the 
last years of her strength to ** the education of one 
of the royal princes, or to an Imperial Establish- 
ment." 

She tells Hortense that, during the twelve years 
she has been keeping school, she has only had 
eighteen months of real prosperity, owing to the 
continual wars, so that she now finds herself in debt 
to the amount of 30,000 francs. "If peace were 
declared, everything would go well with Saint- 
Germain. The effects of this inestimable blessing, 
which we should owe to the sublime mind and the 
magnanimity of our Emperor, would daily make them- 
selves felt. As it is to my interest not to allow an 
establishment which has caused me so much anxiety 

291 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

and such great expense to fall to pieces, I have had 
some more prospectuses printed, which leave no 
doubts concerning my teaching of religious subjects 
and the simplicity of our pupils' costume. I can 
assure your Majesty that I am more than ever 
attentive to the educational part of my establishment. 
M. Isabey has brought back his daughters, whom he 
had taken away from me because he was chagrined 
that they had obtained no prizes. ..." 

Among other pupils under Mme Campan's care 
about this time were Christine Kosowska, a young 
Polish girl, Alixand Josephine dAudiffr^dy (the latter 
the Empress's goddaughter), natives of Martinique, 
and Eiisa de Courtin, later the wife of Casimir 
Delavigne. 

As the months glided away, poor Mme Campan 
became more and more uneasy lest the Emperor 
should not appoint her to manage the Imperial 
Establishment at Ecouen ; she began to imagine that 
she was no longer a persona grata with the Imperial 
family, although Caroline Murat frequently invited her 
to dinner, and although Josephine was most gracious 
to her when she had her to lunch at La Malmaison, 
" where " she declares, " I no longer have any friends, 
not even among my old pupils. The advantages 
enjoyed by my nieces have won me many enemies. . . . 
At this time when his Majesty is about to create 
the Establishment of the Legion of Honour, interest- 
ing himself in female education, when what he has 
deigned to say concerning his plans for my future 
has been circulated not only in Europe but even in 
America, from whence my brother has written to 
congratulate me, may I not hope that he in his 

292 



A DUTIFUL NIECE 

wisdom and justice will find a way to employ me ? 
Do not let your Majesty in your kindness imagine 
that I am not competent to accomplish the task ; I 
should only dread the false opinions of intermediate 
agents, but I should find support in the Emperor's 
justice and in Marshal Duroc's old friendship for 
me. . . . 

That Mme Campan had a good opinion of her 
own talents is shown by the following letter, dated 
April 2, 1807, and written to the queen of Holland : — 
" The Establishment of the Legion of Honour is 
now being organized ; posts are being given to the 
daughters of prefects and generals of division ; if I 
were condemned to remain here, the establishment 
would suffer a genuine loss. ... I was afraid that 
your Majesty had chosen an inopportune moment in 
which to write to the Emperor, but as he has found 
time in the midst of the noise and bustle of camp life 
to nominate many little girls for his schools, why 
should he think it presuming of your Majesty to 
mention the person he chose to bring up the 
princesses, then to form an establishment, and who 
has had the honour and the happiness of educat- 
ing the queen of Holland and the two grand- 
duchesses ? " 

Mme Campan had ever been a good friend to her 
poor relations, and now that it was in her power to 
repay her for some of her many acts of kindness, one 
of her nieces, Adele Augui6, the day before her 
marriage to the mar^chal de Broc, wrote the following 
letter to Queen Hortense, in which she strives to use 
her influence with her old schoolfellow and future 
mistress : — 

293 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" Paris, April lo, 1807. 

" I send you my aunt's letter, my dear Hortense ; 
her joy at my marriage has enabled her to forget her 
troubles for a few hours ; but you must realize, I am 
sure, her cruel position. Do something for her, my 
good Hortense, and you will make me very happy. 
I have just received your wedding-present ; I have 
never seen anything prettier ; I am only grieved to 
think what a lot of money it must have cost. Adieu, 
Hortense ; to-morrow is the great day ; you will 
think of me, won't you ? Adele Augui^." 

When a rumour reached Mme Campan's ears that 
Napoleon was about to appoint a lady-abbess as 
directress of the Establishment of the Legion of 
Honour, she exclaimed : — 

" This is what I have always dreaded most of all, 
because opinions, or rather religious intrigues, are all- 
powerful ; for I do not think that enthusiasm over 
politics usually goes with great devoutness. Our 
Emperor, however, is not easily influenced ; and if 
such be his desire, we may be sure that he thought 
the presence of an abbess would make the establish- 
ment more stately, more imposing. Other rumours 
mention the name of Mme de Genlis, but these I do 
not believe. Why should the Emperor prefer the 
governess of the Bourbon branch to her who has had 
the honour of educating several members of his 
family ? Lastly, many people assert that I shall be 
chosen. If I am not chosen, if, after having admitted 
me to the First Consul's society, after having been 
honoured with four visits from him, chosen by him to 
educate his family, I remain where I now am, my 

294 



MME CAMPAN IS REWARDED 

health will become undermined by my trials, and I 
shall not long survive this unmerited affront. ... If 
he nominates any other person than myself to Ecouen, 
let him orgfanize a similar establishment at Saint- 
Germain ; tell him that the opening of an Imperial 
Educational Establishment at Ecouen would complete 
the ruin of my present house, which has never re- 
covered from the effects of these continual wars, and 
has forced me to run into debt." 

At last, after long months of anxiety, Mme 
Campan heard in September 1807 that the Emperor, 
in consideration of her past services, had appointed 
her to be directress of the Imperial Establishment 
at Ecouen. 

This chateau, situated on a hill with a fine view 
about four leagues from Paris, in the department of 
Seine-et-Oise, was originally built by Anne de 
Montmorency, " the second Bayard," during the reign 
of Frangois 11 ; it afterwards fell into the hands of the 
Condds, and it was here that Henri 11, in 1559, passed 
sentence of death on all his Protestant subjects. 

Poor Mme Campan could scarcely believe that 
her dream had come true : had the Emperor really 
chosen her, the governess of the Bonapartes and the 
de Beauharnais, to direct the establishment at Ecouen ? 
were her troubles really at an end? In her delight 
she wrote to Hortense : — 

" Madame, yesterday I went to Ecouen ; I spent 
six hours making plans and arranging various matters. 
The chateau is in good repair, but one can see that it 
was not built to serve as an educational establish- 
ment ; however, the dormitories are big, the refectories 
spacious, the position healthy and situated amid the 

295 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

prettiest scenery around Paris. There are no grated 
parlours, and yet nothing is more necessary in order 
to show that the pupils are cloistered, and prevent 
their relatives seeing them without permission. There 
must be three such grated parlours: one for the 
servants and the tradespeople, one for the pupils, and one 
for the princesses. The grating must open in the middle 
on hinges, and be so arranged that the male relatives 
of the pupils cannot see the girls without permission : 
Messieurs les chambellans and the equerries will not 
like this rule, but it is indispensable where the pupils 
are cloistered. 

" The chapel is magnificent ; it has not yet been 
restored ; but this work must be done before we move 
in, for it would never do for an army of workmen to 
be in the same building with the young ladies. The 
architecture of the altar, which was respected by the 
revolutionists, is in keeping with the chapel. The 
Te Deum and the Domine Saknini shall be sung by 
clear voices and pious lips. Your Majesty will come 
and hear them. Nothing makes a deeper impression 
upon youth than to see great and powerful personages 
kneeling in prayer. I will say no more to your 
Majesty concerning Ecouen, where I do not desire 
to obtain success — the term is too worldly, and 
reminds me of the spite and jealousy found in that 
world — but one word of praise and then I shall die 
content." 

But 1 80S was to dawn before Mme Campan could 
move into her new home. The dormitories, baptized 
dorioirs Jnlie, Ze'na'ide, Chai'lotte, and Catherine, after 
members of the Emperor's family, were soon arranged ; 
but the repairs to the chapel necessitated great ex- 

296 



LOLOTTE BONAPARTE 

pense and much time. The architect had made out 
an estimate for 20,000 francs, which included bringing 
the high ahar and the stained-glass windows from the 
church of the Petits Augustins in Paris, whither they 
had been removed, and where the altar had been used 
as a sort of pedestal for the statues of Anne de Mont- 
morency and his wife, the authorities refusing to give 
back the altar and windows without an order from the 
Emperor. Napoleon having given the order, the 
stone high-constable and his good wife were placed on 
another and a more suitable pedestal, *' which will not 
hurt the dead high-constable," adds Mme Campan. 

Charlotte Bonaparte did not accompany her kind 
governess to Ecouen. In 1804 her father, having 
received the title of prince de Canino from his friend 
Pius vii,^ had gone to reside at Viterbo. In 1807 
Napoleon tried, while at Mantua, to obtain a recon- 
ciliation with his brother ; but Lucien had never for- 
given his powerful brother's attempts to make him 
divorce his second wife, had taken Lolotte away from 
Mme Campan, brought her home rejoicing to Italy, 
and resisted all Napoleon's efforts to make friends, 
although the Emperor had promised to find a princely 
husband for Lolotte in the person of the prince of the 
Asturias, whose father, he declared, "had craved her 
hand for his son." Napoleon was apt to forget such 
unimportant matters as the ages of his victims when- 
ever he had any fresh plans for lightning matches ; 
but it was somewhat of a surprise to him when Lucien 
wrote rather scornfully that " Lolotte was only twelve 
years of age." 

* Pius VII was Pope from 1800 to 1823 ; he signed the Concordat, and 
crowned Napoleon Emperor of the French. 

297 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" Dear me ! " remarked Napoleon, " I thought she 
was older than that ! " 

Lucien did not attempt to hide his disgust from 
M. de Girardin : " Why does he want to make 
friends after all those years ? He came twice to 
Rome without seeing either me or my children, and 
yet they are his nephews and nieces." 

In December 1807, Napoleon made one more 
attempt. He wrote to Lucien telling him either to 
bring Lolotte himself to Paris or else to send her with 
a governess, as he wished her to share the benefits 
which he was showering upon all his other relatives 
— and alas ! so often only reaping ingratitude in 
return. 

Lucien took no notice of this invitation. 

When the repairs at Ecouen were nearing com- 
pletion, Mme Campan, always anxious to be up to 
date, went to the Emperor and begged him to let her 
have some firemen to protect the building from fire. 
Napoleon remarked : — 

" Your supervision ought to be sufficient." 

"Yes, Sire," replied Mme Campan, flattered by 
the compliment, "it might do so, but can I prevent 
fire falling from the skies ? " 

" You are right," concluded the Emperor, and he 
immediately ordered that Mme Campan should be 
given three firemen to protect the house from fire. 

What were Maman Campan's feelings when she 
said good-bye to the old Hotel de Rohan, where she 
had spent ten busy years teaching, educating little 
girls, many of whom were to become celebrated 
women ? She was no longer young, being over fifty 
years of age. In future she would be the directress 

298 



NAPOLEON AS A GOOD CATHOLIC 

of a huore establishment — which meant that she 
would see less of her pupils, that she would cease to 
mother the little ones. Hitherto she had always 
taken her meals with her pupils, but now this would 
be impossible. The class of pupils was also about to 
change, for the princesses could not be expected to 
send their daughters to a public school for three 
hundred girls of all ages, from the little one learning 
its alphabet to the marriageable young miss of 
eighteen, " whose father can easily find her a husband 
if he is an honest man, or if she is possessed of a con- 
siderable fortune." 

Mme Campan had the entire management of the 
establishment of Ecouen ; she was aided in her task 
by the comte de Lacepede, at that time chancellor 
of the Legion of Honour. Napoleon insisted upon 
all the plans being submitted to him for approval ; 
nothing was too insignificant ; such commonplace 
subjects as furniture, dress, and food were examined 
carefully by this wonderful man. Saint-Germain was 
to serve as a model for Ecouen — but a slightly altered 
model, however, for Napoleon did not approve of 
"showing off the young belles," and accomplishments 
were to be limited. 

In one of her reports Mme Campan suggested 
that if Mass were said in the chapel belonging to the 
school twice a week, on Sundays and Thursdays, it 
would be quite sufficient ; Napoleon returned the 
report with this remark scribbled in his own hand- 
writing : " // TTLUst be said every day." 

And yet the clergy did not look with favour upon 
Ecouen, and for many months did everything they 
could to prevent the faithful sending their daughters 

299 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

to live under Mme Campan's roof. The cause is not 
far to seek ; it lay in Napoleon's determination to 
think for himself and to keep free from the trammels 
with which both Catholic and Protestant clergy would 
gladly have bound him. Napoleon respected all 
religions. Did not Harry Heine's father always 
remember with gratitude how, on one occasion, when 
the Emperor was in Germany, that most wonderful 
man spoke most kindly to " the poor Jew boy " ? 
The clergy showed their animosity on every occasion. 
When the Bishop of Metz, after many pressing in- 
vitations, consented at the command of Napoleon's 
uncle. Cardinal Fesch, to go to Ecouen and confirm 
some of the orphans of Austerlitz, he was obliged to 
express surprise at " the universal and simple piety dis- 
played by the pupils of a secular establishment." Of 
her own religious convictions, Mme Campan said : 
'* I dearly love the simplicity of my own faith ; I 
revere it, but I hate anything approaching fanaticism." 
She was religious in the very best sense of the term. 
A woman who had no religion would never have 
said as she did : — 

" As soon as a little child can speak clearly, teach 
it to pray to God. Let it learn to love Him and 
thank Him for His kindness ; later, when you teach 
it Bible History, you can teach it how to fear 
Him." 

Mme Campan's work, Lettres dedeux jeunes amies, 
describes the daily existence of the children of the 
Legion of Honour. The would-be pupils and their 
relatives, on being ushered into Mme Campan's 
parlour, were expected to produce their papers of 
identification, after which a young lady carrying a 

300 



A DAY AT ECOUEN 

huge bunch of keys, appeared and took the pupils to 
be introduced to their future companions. 

"As I had caught cold in Paris," relates the 
heroine of the above-mentioned work, " my mother, on 
reaching Ecouen, had requested that I might be put 
to bed in the infirmary. I am now quite well again, 
and I sleep in a dormitory close to the bell which 
gives the signal for lessons to begin. At six o'clock 
this morning I heard a prodigious noise ; I was vastly 
alarmed ; however, I thrust my head under the 
blankets and quickly fell asleep again. But I soon 
heard somebody calling me by my name ; I put my head 
out and beheld the lady-superintendent, fully dressed, 
standing at the foot of my bed. My companions were 
already up and ready to go into school. So there 
was nothing for it but to dress myself, which I 
did with one eye open and the other shut ; in my 
haste I put on my pinbefore inside out, for which act 
I had the satisfaction of seeing my comrades burst out 
a-laughing at me. A second ringing of bells gave 
the signal for prayers, whereupon we are made to 
walk sedately two by two to our classroom. I was so 
bold as to ask the lady-superintendent why she made 
us walk in such a ridiculous procession ; she replied 
that, without this precaution, the children would knock 
themselves against the doors and might even hurt 
themselves. After prayers, the bell rang again, this 
time for Mass. All my comrades went to a cupboard 
to fetch their prayer books, after which we were again 
made to fall into line. Mass finished, the bell rang 
for breakfast ; but what a breakfast ! With the ex- 
ception of those in delicate health, to whom the nurses 
carried chocolate, we were given milk ; another day 

301 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

we shall have either jam or fruit. Would it not be 
much nicer if each one could have what she prefers, 
either coffee, chocolate, or jam ? But we are even 
deprived of the satisfaction of having money in our 
possession, for we cannot buy what we like. 

" To-morrow I shall have to get one of my 
comrades to wake me, for I have been told that I 
shall have to wash and dress Victorine (her little 
sister). I have had to mark all my linen ; I was sent 
to the matron's room to make my own frocks, 
pinbefores, velvet bonnet and cap. I did not expect 
to become a dressmaker, and it seems to me that the 
parents' wishes as to their daughters' education are 
not consulted. That cruel bell has just rung again ; 
it never ceases to ring for some lesson or the other ; 
I could forgive it for its vile noise if it would only ring 
a little oftener for recreation. It rings ten minutes 
before dinner, so that we, like common serving- 
wenches, may fulfil the agreeable task of dusting our 
desks and sweeping out the classrooms ; then it 
rings for dinner, supper, and bedtime ; but the most 
horrible of all its ringings is when it wakes us in the 
morning. Everything here goes by clockwork. Oh ! 
how I regret my little room at Valence, so quiet, so 
removed from all street-sounds. How silly I was 
to grumble at the poor cock which, it is true, awoke 
me most mornings, but at least allowed me to turn 
over and go to sleep again ! Here three hundred 
persons have to behave like one, and to obey one 
command given by one person. 

'• There are other revolting and fidgety rules. 
Would you believe it? If we want to go anywhere 
and we are not walking in procession, we have to 

302 



AN EXCELLENT RULE 

hold in our hand a little label on which is written the 
word : matron's room, linen-closet, music-room, or 
wherever else we want to go. If a governess meets 
a child without this passport, she can seize it by the 
hand and take it off to Madame la directrice ; you 
can imagine that a visit, under such circumstances, is 
not attended with much pleasure." 

In her book, De I Education, Mme Campan ex- 
plains her reason for making her pupils walk two by 
two. At first the children at Saint- Germain were 
allowed to go in and out of the classrooms as they 
liked, but one day after dinner a showman with some 
performing dogs asked permission to enter the 
courtyard of the Hotel de Rohan, whereupon all the 
little ones rushed to the door in order to look at the 
four-footed actors. One of the babies stumbled and 
fell to the ground without her schoolfellows noticing 
what had happened ; several others pressed forward 
so eagerly that they stepped on the prostrate little one, 
hurting it very severely. In future the children had 
to walk two and two. 

There was one rule at Ecouen which was cal- 
culated to develop the maternal instincts : each big 
girl had to take care of a little one, and, as the 
children were sent as young as possible to the 
establishment, it frequently happened that the child 
was scarcely more than a baby, which the big girl 
had to get up in the morning, wash, dress, and tell 
what it had to do during the day ; then in the evening 
the big girl had to ask the little one how it had 
behaved, blame or praise it, as the case might be — in 
fact, act the part of a mother. For Napoleon's 
intention, in founding the Imperial Educational 

303 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Establishment at Ecouen, was not merely to give the 
orphans of his brave servants a comfortable home, 
but to provide wives for his future heroes. Was not 
dear Madame Mere married at fourteen years of age 
and the mother of four spirited children before she 
was twenty — and very proud of the fact? Mme 
Campan held that a wife should know how to 
manage her household : " The cares of the home 
concern women ; a good housewife should take pride 
in providing her husband with excellent food. A 
man who works all day cannot attend to such matters ; 
and if the wife neglects them, she will ruin her 
home, and will force her husband to pass his time in 
wine-shops." The pupils at Ecouen had to learn to 
cook, to sweep out their classrooms, make their own 
clothes, wait at table, give out the clean linen, etc. 

The costume — it is practically unchanged to- 
day at the sister-establishment of Saint-Denis — 
consisted of a black stuff frock with a white collar ; 
each class wore a distinctive sash : the older girls 
wore red and white ; those who had not yet mastered 
their grammar wore blue, while the tiny ones (and 
they must have been specially dear to Maman 
Campan's heart) wore green sashes until they had 
learnt the difference between M and N. 

The children's relations were permitted to visit 
them on Sundays and Thursdays, when Mme 
Campan proudly writes : " There are sometimes as 
many as fifty visitors in the parlours ! " So strict 
was the watch kept over the pupils that they were 
not allowed to write to their girl-friends without 
permission, and such luxuries so dear to the hearts of 
little girls as rose-coloured note-paper adorned with 

304 



THE LOST BOWER 

cupids or perhaps a portrait of the Great Napoleon, 
were at once confiscated. 

When a child had given special satisfaction to her 
teachers, she was allowed to go in state with her 
comrades to the park, where she solemnly planted a 
young tree which in future was to bear her name 
and to be tended by her hands alone. Long years 
afterwards, when the master-mind which had con- 
ceived this institution had been extinguished, some of 
Maman Campan's former nestlings, now wives and 
mothers themselves, paid a visit to the old school 
at Ecouen and tried to evoke the past ; they found 
the gravel walks down which they had bowled their 
hoops, played hide-and-seek, and chased the many- 
coloured butterflies, covered with moss ; the park was 
full of dead branches, untidy undergrowth, and ugly 
weeds, while the trees which had borne the pupils' 
names had either disappeared or were hidden under 
shrouds of ivy. Gone was the happy playground, 
the lost bower of childhood : — 

" I affirm that since I lost it, 

Never bower has seemed so fair — 
Never garden-creeper crossed it. 

With so deft and brave an air — 
Never bird sung in the summer 
As I saw and heard them there." 

The rule at Ecouen was : " Be quicker to praise 
than to blame." Punishments were not to be over- 
frequent. Mme Campan had a wholesome dread of 
severity where little girls were concerned: "Cold 
water thrown in the face of a naughty child," said 
she, " is a sure but dangerous cure for a fit of temper. 
I knew a gentleman who did this to one of his 
u 305 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

daughters, whereupon she was instantly seized with 
an attack of hoarseness from which she suffered for 
the rest of her Hfe." 

Mme Campan was fond of relating the following 
anecdote : — 

" A little girl of nine years having gone with 
her parents to spend the fete of Corpus Christi in a 
country house near Paris, was tempted to steal a watch 
belonging to one of her little friends ; she yielded to the 
criminal desire. The watch was sought for every- 
where ; it was found, and the thief discovered. The 
poor parents, overwhelmed with grief and shame, con- 
demned the little culprit to walk in the procession of 
Corpus Christi carrying a board on which these words 
were written : / stole a watch. The terrified culprit 
submitted to this fearful punishment. She returned 
home with her parents without having uttered a single 
word or shed one tear. Having crossed a poultry-yard 
where she found a serving-wench to whom she said : 
' Adieu, Marianne, I am disgraced,' she entered a 
thicket in which there was a pond, flung herself into 
it and was instantly drowned." 

Another and a less tragic anecdote, evoking the 
charming but frivolous Court of Versailles, was often 
related by Mme Campan to those of her friends who 
could remember the ancien rdgime. The marechale 
de Beauvau, the daughter of the due de Rohan- 
Chabot, had been educated at the convent of Port- 
Royal, whither the most illustrious families in France 
sent their daughters. A litde girl of six years of age 
having been so wicked as to steal an dat worth six 
francs, the nuns had a grand confabulation in order to 
punish the culprit so that she would never forget. 

306 



A TERRIBLE PUNISHMENT 

The little girl was sentenced to be hung, that is to 
say, she was placed in a wicker basket, which was 
then suspended from the ceiling of the classroom. 
While she was thus imprisoned, her governesses 
and schoolfellows entered the room and walked 
to and fro under the basket chanting the De 
Profundis. When it was little Mile de Rohan- 
Chabot s turn to approach the impromptu prison, she 
turned up her face and called out : " Are you dead ? " 
whereupon the unrepentant sinner replied through the 
twigs of the basket : "Not yet ! " 

And when in after years the marechale de Beauvau 
met the little heroine of this incident in the gilded 
salons of Versailles, she never failed to greet the 
pendue with this question : " Are you dead ? " that she 
might hear the cheery reply : " Not yet ! " 

Mme Campan found that as a rule it was quite 
sufficient punishment to make the pupils eat their 
meals alone on a little wooden table without any table- 
cloth, with a label above to show what fault had caused 
this humiliation. On such occasions the offender was 
served at the same time as her companions, but tears 
usually took away her appetite. Such a punishment 
was meted out to any pupil who had been given 
twelve bad marks during the course of two or three 
days. Temporary confiscation of the coloured sash 
was found efficient in the case of more trifling faults. 
But the worst punishment of all, truly a horrible one, 
was only once employed during Mme Campan's reign 
at Ecouen. 

Napoleon had decreed that any pupil convicted of 
a very serious fault should be deprived of her coloured 
sash in the presence of all her fellow-pupils and 

307 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

teachers, and never allowed to wear it again. On the 
one and awful occasion when this punishment was 
inflicted, the three hundred pupils, fifty governesses, 
and all the servants having formed into a square in 
the courtyard of the building, the culprit was brought 
and made to stand, pale and trembling, on the black 
marble cross on the pavement, representing the cross 
of the Legion of Honour, when Mme Campan ap- 
peared and gravely unfastened the child's sash to show 
that she had ceased to be worthy of the Emperor's 
protection — whereupon the unhappy little creature fell 
to the ground in a swoon. 

In order to cure untidy habits, Mme Campan 
recommended surprise visits to the pupils' chests of 
drawers and wardrobes. At first she planned to teach 
the girls how to make preserves and wash and iron 
their own linen ; however, she soon found that more 
fruit went down the children's throats than into the 
jam-pots, and that when muslin pinafores and caps 
come in contact with over-heated irons the results are 
apt to be disastrous. 

It is to be feared that the good dame's ideas con- 
cerning personal cleanliness would be considered quite 
prehistoric by a modern schoolmistress. 

" For a dormitory containing thirty beds," says 
she, " six foot-tubs should be provided, so that every 
mornine six children can wash their feet ; in this 
manner each child takes a foot-bath once in five days. 
The hands and teeth should be cleaned in the morning, 
the face and the neck before going to bed. The face 
should never be washed in the morning, as exposure 
to the outer air after applying water is apt to crack 
the skin." (Apparently it was considered unnecessary 

308 



OLD-FASHIONED IDEAS OF HYGIENE 

to wash the "altogether" in M me Campan's establish- 
ment.) "The hair should not be allowed to grow 
Ions' until after the ag-e of twelve. Schoolmistresses 
sometimes experience difficulty in persuading mothers 
to sacrifice a fine head of hair which has been care- 
fully brushed and combed from the cradle ; but when 
the reason has been explained to the parents, they 
usually give their consent." 

"A proper dormitory," she says, "ought not to 
contain more than thirty beds. The bed of the super- 
intendent of each dormitory ought to be raised several 
feet on a sort of platform, and so placed that she can 
see all the pupils' beds at a glance ; she will give a 
bad mark to any pupil who, seized with some stupid 
fear, is found in a schoolfellow's bed. . . . Children 
of three and four years of age, gifted with a lively 
imagination, are often troubled with visions before 
falling asleep. They must not be scolded for being 
frightened ; they see, or think they see, strange and 
awful-looking creatures pass before their gaze. In 
this case we must not punish them unjustly, but try to 
reason with them ; they must not be left alone in the 
dark. . . . From April i to October i, the hour of 
rising is fixed at 6 a.m. ; from October i to April i, 
the hour is 7 a.m. . . ." 

After rising, prayers had to be said and the epistle 
and gospel read aloud. Every week a pupil was 
chosen to teach the little ones their alphabet. Before 
each meal a pupil had to climb up into a sort of pulpit 
and recite the Lord's Prayer, after which a rap on the 
table gave the signal for the pupils to sit down and 
eat their soup ; another prayer closed the performance. 
Sunday, a delightful day, began with Mass ; 

309 



THE CELEBRATED MADAM]& CAMP AN 

Vespers and Benediction were said in the afternoon, 
and then the pupils were free to work in the garden 
and play games. During the long dark winter 
evenings some of the pupils took turns to play the 
pianoforte — an instrument which Mme Campan re- 
commended should be learnt early — while the little 
ones danced. The elder girls always spent Sunday 
evening in Mme Campan's parlour, where they read 
aloud or listened to the conversation of the directress 
and her friends. The smaller girls were at times 
allowed as a reward to take a dish of tea with the 
directress, which must have been a great honour ; or 
else they were admitted to her own little garden, where 
she regaled them with fruit and whipped cream. 

The pupils were always in bed before ten. 

A sort of brief examination was held every quarter, 
when, each girl having produced a drawing and a 
composition, prizes were awarded ; at the end of the 
year they underwent a severer examination, when they 
were expected to give a good account of what they 
had learnt during that time. The highest award was 
the medal, which M. de Lac6pede pinned on the 
breast of the lucky winner. 



310 



CHAPTER XV 

The queen of Holland pays a visit to Ecouen — Stephanie Tascher de 
La Pagerie marries the prince d'Arenberg — The Emperor's birthday 
is kept by the Orphans of Austerlitz — Napoleon comes to inspect 
his protegees — The queen of Holland is made patroness of Ecouen 
— Napoleon's divorce — Lolotte Bonaparte returns to France — Mme 
Campan meets with a serious accident — Napoleon and Marie 
Louise visit Ecouen — France is invaded. 

One of the first visitors to Ecouen was Mme Campan's 
favourite pupil, the queen of Holland. She was 
received with great ceremony at the door of the chapel 
by the directress, the governesses, and the chaplains ; 
after having heard Mass, when the pupils sang the 
Domine Salvttm, she lunched in Mme Campan's 
private sitting-room, had a long chat over old times, 
and presented the governess who had helped Mme 
Campan to do the honours of the establishment with 
a ring. When lunch was over, she asked to witness 
the distribution of bread and meat to twenty-four poor 
women belonging to the village of Ecouen, which 
took place four times a week and was paid for by the 
pupils. Hortense was so touched by the spectacle of 
two pupils, their black dresses covered by white aprons, 
ministering to the poor, that she, on saying good-bye, 
left 600 francs to be spent in a similar manner. 

The month of March 1808 saw the last of 
Napoleon's lightning marriages, the marriage of 
another of Mme Campan's former pupils — but not to 

311 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

M. de Chaumont-Quitry, to whom Stephanie Tascher 
de La Pagerie, Josephine's cousin and god-daughter, 
had been engaged for two years. That honest fellow, 
Rapp, had asked for her hand during the Consulate 
and been refused by Mme Bonaparte, who had not 
considered him a sufficiently good parti. Mile 
Tascher had to thank Napoleon for a very bitter 
experience, for, as in the case of her cousins Hortense 
and Stephanie de Beauharnais, her marriage was to 
prove an utter failure. The prince d'Arenberg, at 
that time a colonel in the French army, was rather a 
favourite with Napoleon. The latter one day sent for 
the prince and, having assured him of his friendship, 
delivered himself of this astounding piece of news : — 

" You shall marry to-morrow ! " 

"Sire," replied his astonished visitor, " I regret to 
say that I am not free to marry, for my affianced bride 
expects me to keep my word : we are pledged to one 
another for life." 

But this excuse was as useless and empty as when 
employed by Davout on a previous and similar 
occasion. 

" Well, get disengaged ! " remarked Napoleon. " I 
expect you to marry to-morrow. If you refuse, we 
shall send you to the fortress of Vincennes." 

As the prince had no desire to become familiar 
with the topography of that depressing place, he 
obeyed. 

Napoleon did his duty to the bride when he gave 
her a trousseau valued at 40,000 francs. The bill of 
the then fashionable dressmaker, Mme Lenormand, 
included such items as 25,000 francs worth of under- 
clothing, 627 francs for gloves and hosiery, and 

312 



ANOTHER PUPIL MARRIES 

several dresses embroidered in gold and silver, each 
costing from 5000 to 6000 francs. 

The marriage took place, according to Napoleon's 
orders, on the morrow at midnight in the Luynes- 
d'Arenberg mansion,^ the festivities concluding with a 
ball at which the whole Court assisted, when it was 
remarked that, although Napoleon opened the ball 
and danced several times with the bride, he never 
once invited the Empress to dance. 

An unexpected and unrehearsed scene caused 
consternation among the guests when the bride, 
having bowed stiffly to her bridegroom, retired and 
locked herself into her own apartment. 

The prince d'Arenberg's respect for, or rather 
dread of, his wife's relatives did not prevent him later 
murmuring at the way in which she had treated him, 
a married man with no rights or power over his wife. 
However, when Napoleon, too, was deprived of his 
rights and power, the princess d'Arenberg got her 
marriage annulled by Rome, and married her former 
fianc6, the comte de Chaumont-Quitry. 

The routine at Ecouen was varied by several fetes. 
Carnival was kept according to tradition. For many 
days previous to Shrove Tuesday, the young ladies 
spent every spare moment in cutting out and gluing 
costumes in multi-coloured paper. On the great day, 
the pupils, dressed as wild Indians and Esquimaux, 
were given an excellent dinner of fat capons, — which 
had likewise been preparing for Carnival, — tartlets 
and creams in the Salle Hortense, specially illuminated 
and decorated for the occasion, after which the girls 

^ Some authors assert that the marriage was celebrated in Louis 
Bonaparte's hotel in the rue Cerutti, Paris. 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

marched round the hall and then danced quadrilles 
until midnight. 

Corpus Christi was another feast ; this fete, which 
takes place in June at a time when all Nature is 
singing the praises of the Creator, is the most charm- 
ing in the Church year. An altar was always erected 
at one end of the garden. The procession was headed 
by the servants, dressed in neat black dresses, carrying 
the crucifix ; then came the banner of the Virgin 
Mary, borne by girls chosen for their good conduct, 
wearing blue sashes : the canopy was carried by girls 
in crimson and white sashes, while fifty of the youngest 
pupils, wearing white muslin veils and wreaths of 
cornflowers on their heads, scattered Maman Campan's 
sweetest blossoms before the Holy Sacrament. Mme 
Campan and the chancellor, M. de Lac^pede, followed, 
together with the governesses and the other pupils, 
singing hymns. 

The birthday of the Emperor, to whom the little 
pupils owed this pleasant home, was celebrated on 
August 15 by a grand Mass, at which the bishop of 
Troyes, the Emperor's own chaplain, and the six 
chaplains belonging to the establishment, officiated. 
A magnificent dinner — including the inevitable tartlets 
and creams — was then given to the pupils, attired in 
their best clothes, Mme Campan inviting fifty ladies 
to dine with her, when the Emperor's health was 
drunk with enthusiasm. The chateau was illuminated 
in the evening, and the pupils and some of the younger 
governesses danced to the sound of a piano and a violin. 

It was a sad anniversary that of the battle of 
Austerlitz, when so many of the pupils had been 
orphaned, which was kept on December 2 by order 

314 



THE EMPEROR VISITS ECOUEN 

of the lord-chancellor, M. de Lac^pede. After hearing 
Mass, the whole establishment walked in procession 
to the park, where the head of the senior class and 
the head of the junior class solemnly planted two 
young trees ornamented with the colours; of the Legion 
of Honour. 

In February 1809 ^^ epidemic of measles broke 
out among the pupils at Ecouen ; as more than one 
hundred children were ill at one time, several dormitories 
had to be turned into hospital wards. So carefully 
were the children nursed by Maman Campan and her 
assistants, that only three died. One of these be- 
longed to the classe violette — that is to say, she wore a 
violet sash. When the dead girl's little sister heard 
that her big sister was no more, she was heart-broken, 
and gathered up several articles which had belonged 
to the dear dead one, wept over them, and refused to 
be parted from them. 

Ever since the establishment had been opened, 
Mme Campan had been hoping that the Emperor 
would come and see for himself how she had acquitted 
herself of the task confided to her motherly heart. 
Another extract from Les Lettres de deux amies 
describes a surprise visit which was made, March 
4, 1809:— 

''Madame la directrice was walking in the garden 
when she saw a page and several grooms wearing 
Napoleon's livery approach the house ; somebody ran 
to summon her, whereupon she hastened to the 
wicket-gate. The page informed her that the Emperor 
was coming to Ecouen, and that he would arrive in 
a few minutes ; upon hearing which all the ladies 
flocked round Mme Campan, asking what they were 

315 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

to do. Were they to dress the children ? Where 
were they to stand ? What were they to do ? There 
was no time to make the children put on their best 
clothes. * To the classrooms, and every lady to her 
post ! ' was the word of command. The chancellor, 
whom Napoleon had only informed at eleven o'clock 
that morning that he was going to Ecouen, luckily 
arrived a few minutes before his master. 

"At half-past twelve the Emperor's carriage 
entered the courtyard ; he was accompanied by the 
prince de Neufchatel,^ the other members of his suite 
occupying a second carriage. His Excellence the 
chancellor and Madame la directrice received the 
founder of Ecouen under the great porch. He first 
walked through the refectories and the classrooms on 
the ground floor ; he put some very easy questions to 
several of the little ones, to which they replied very 
nicely, displaying scarcely any timidity. Napoleon 
examined the stockings which the little pupils were 
knitting, opened them, slipped his hand into them 
and turned them inside out, just as if he were a good 
housewife. While Napoleon was inspecting the 
dormitories, the studio, the infirmary, and the 
dispensary, we were made to take our places in the 
chapel ; the clergy then walked in procession, carrying 
the crucifix, to meet him outside the porch, and make 
a speech. The head chaplain's discourse was simple 
and deeply touching. Napoleon then went and knelt 
in the place reserved for him ; he rose from his knees 
when we began to sing a hymn which he had never 
before heard sung by so many fresh young voices, 
and which seemed to give him pleasure. 

^ Berthier. 
316 



NAPOLEON REVIEWS THE PUPILS 

"On leaving the chapel, our benefactor went to look 
at the north terrace. We were then made to stand 
in two long rows, reaching from the chateau to the 
park. 

" ' I do not often assist at such reviews,' remarked 
Napoleon ; ' these young people all look in good 
health.' 

" When somebody replied with reason that it was 
due to the pure air, Napoleon added : — 

" ' And to good care ! ' 

" This remark was repeated by the ladies, who 
felt much flattered. When he to whom we owe so 
much reached the end of the path, Madame la 
directrice asked him if he would allow some of the 
pupils to dance in his presence, as we were accustomed 
to do on fete-days. 

" Certainly ! ' replied he ; * let them dance, by all 
means.' 

"The pupils immediately began to dance all along 

the path. Mile Caroline de R sang a solo, which 

the pupils then repeated in chorus. 

" Napoleon listened attentively to the following 
verses : — 

" * Cette plume qui donna 
Des lors k I'Europe enti^re, 
Dans un rfeglement traga^ 
Nos devoirs, notre prifere, 
Quand de son nom belliqueux 
II fait retentir la terre, 
Ici nos plus simples jeux 
L'interessent comme un p&re.' 

^ In reference to a fourteen-page memorandum concerning his 
plans for the education of the daughters of his brave soldiers, which 
Napoleon, one evening after winning a battle in Poland, had dictated 
to one of his aides-de-camp. 

1^1 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" The word father, uttered by a multitude of 
children who owed to Napoleon that inestimable benefit, 
a good education, and this assembly of young girls, 
the fathers of many of whom had already terminated 
their career or who still served under the flag, seemed 
to make a deep impression upon him ; his face 
betrayed his emotion. 

" The dance over, Napoleon ordered Madame la 
directrice to give him the names of the four most 
obedient and most industrious pupils. She was 
visibly embarrassed ; such a matter is both difficult 
and pleasing ; however, we all applauded her choice. 

" * I give each of these young ladies,' said he, 'a 
pension of 400 francs as a proof of my pleasure.' 

"The pupils then went to dinner. Napoleon 
entered the refectory and went and stood beneath the 
pulpit, when the pupil who had to read that day finished 
the Lord's Prayer with a special prayer for him. 
He looked up at her, and was so kind as to bow to 
her. He then asked several questions concerning 
our meals ; he asked what treats we were given on 
fete-days. Madame la directrice replied that we were 
allowed either tartlets or creams. 

" ' Well, then,' replied he, ' next Sunday you must 
celebrate my visit by giving them both tartlets and 
creams ! ' 

" Just as Napoleon was about to get into his car- 
riage, he deigned to inform his Excellence the chan- 
cellor that he was going to attend to the organiza- 
tion of other educational establishments for the 
daughters of knights of the Legion of Honour, and 
that our house was only a temporary institution. This 
remark must have delighted his Excellence, who, for 

318 



IMPERIAL SUGAR-PLUMS 

the last two years, has been working with zeal and 
perseverance at a very different task to that which 
usually occupies his time. ... I have just been inter- 
rupted by loud cries and the clapping of many pairs 
of hands ; on going to ascertain what was happening, 
I saw all the girls assembled in the courtyard ; they 
were gazing in rapture at a number of baskets con- 
taining at least twenty different kinds of jams and 
sugar-plums sent by Napoleon to Madavte la directrice 
for Sunday's feast. . . . The little ones are really 
vastly entertaining : one of them, on seeing the first 
basket of sugar-plums unpacked, cried : ' Oh ! what a 
fine thing it must be to be a conqueror ! he must be 
able to eat as many sugar-plums as he likes !'..." 

Napoleon had put a very poignant question to 
Mme Campan on taking leave of her and her children. 

" Why," asked he, " did the old system of educat- 
ing girls in France prove a failure 'i " 

"It was because they lacked good mothers!" 
quoth Manian Campan. 

" Well said," exclaimed Napoleon, himself the son 
of a good mother ; "let our Frenchmen owe to you the 
education of the future mothers of their children ! " 

Before many weeks had elapsed. Napoleon had 
decreed the formation of five other educational establish- 
ments for girls, viz. : Saint-Denis and Mont Valerien, 
both outside Paris ; Les Loges, at Saint-Germain ; 
Les Barbeaux, near Melun ; and Pont-a-Mousson, in 
the department of Meurthe-et-Moselle. 

As at Saint-Germain, Mme Campan gathered 
round her all the best teachers of the day ; from London 
she summoned a well-known pianist and harpist, a 
certain Frenchwoman of the name of Laval, who, 

319 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

although able to earn ;^i200 a year, was always in 
debt ; when inviting this lady to return to her native 
land, Mme Campan said that she could not afford to 
pay her a very high salary, but that she hoped, as living 
was less expensive in France, Mme Laval would accept 
her offer. Let us hope that Mme Laval turned over 
a new leaf, and was not like some of Mme Campan's 
teachers, who had to be dismissed lest their bad 
example should corrupt the little girls' morals. 

In April, Napoleon appointed Mme Campan's former 
pupil, the queen of Holland, as the patroness of Ecouen. 

Mme Campan, with a salary of 15,000 francs, was 
now on the topmost wave of prosperity. The establish- 
ment at Ecouen became one of the "sights" of the 
day and was visited by people from many lands, in- 
cluding the king of Bavaria, the viceroy of Italy 
(Hortense's brother Eugene), and Caroline Murat, 
now queen of Naples, who, on returning to their own 
countries, founded similar institutions. 

The number of girls' schools in and around Paris 
had grown enormously during the last few years ; 
many of these were day-schools. Mme Campan held 
that boarding-schools for young ladies ought to be 
situated outside the city, and not, as was frequently the 
case in those days, in the upper floors of a big build- 
ing inhabited on the entrance floor by a notary 
employing several clerks, with possible and very 
probable consequences — flirtations between romantic 
misses and underfed quill-drivers, in the throes of 
calf-love and with a taste for poetry. 

Mme Campan proposed that the number of girls' 
schools should be limited : — 

" The two sexes would then no longer study to- 

320 



LUCIEN REFUSES TO MAKE FRIENDS 

gether, and girls would only be taken as day-boarders 
until they had made their First Communion. Little 
girls ought not to be allowed to run about the streets 
of a capital which offers such dangers to morality. 
Day-schools exist in Philadelphia and New York, but 
boarding-schools are unknown. Schools for all classes 
of society ought to be opened. The poorer classes 
would pay four francs a month ; the richer would pay 
twelve francs or twenty-four francs ; for the latter class, 
drawing, writing, and dancing masters would be 
provided." 

Many of these smaller schools had failed on account 
of the dearness of such necessities as bread and 
vegetables ; in some cases the pupils' clothes and 
trinkets had been seized to pay the debts contracted 
by the schoolmistresses, and Mme Campan herself 
rescued a friendless girl of fifteen from a school while 
the sale of furniture, etc., was actually taking place. 
It was for this reason that she said that thirty boarding- 
schools kept by nuns or private persons ought to 
suffice for Paris and the suburbs, and sixty day-schools 
for the capital only. 

Mme Campan's prosperity was in no wise injured 
by the divorce of the woman to whom she owed so 
much of that prosperity. 

Napoleon, immediately after his divorce, which 
took place in December 1809, again wrote to his brother 
Lucien, begging him to reconsider his decision, and 
send Lolotte to Paris, where he could easily find a 
suitable husband for her, having now two eligible 
partis, the prince of the Asturias and the grand-duke 
of Wurzburg, on hand. At last in February, Lucien, 
unwilling to spoil his daughter's prospects, sent Lolotte 
X 321 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

with her cousin, Mme Gasson, to Paris, where she was 
to lodge with her grandmother. 

On March 8, Madame Mere wrote to her son 
Lucien : — 

" Lolotte has arrived in good health. As soon as 
her wardrobe is in order, I shall take her to see the 
Emperor, and I am convinced that she will be received 
very kindly ; I will tell you all about it on the morrow. 
Please Heaven I may be enabled to announce to you 
the only thing which I now need to make me perfectly 
happy — namely, your reconciliation. 

"VOSTRA MADRE." 

Madame Mere was mistaken. Contrary to his 
usual habit. Napoleon treated Mme Campan's former 
pupil rather sternly ; it must be allowed that she, alas ! 
did nothing to earn his affection : she laughed at her 
suitors, and made very outspoken remarks concerning 
her uncle's Court. 

It was with difficulty that Lucien had been able 
to force himself to send this child — Lolotte was only 
just fifteen — up to Paris. He considered the two 
marriages proposed by his powerful brother unsuit- 
able. Before Lolotte had been many days in Paris, 
her father, dreading lest Napoleon should conclude 
another of his disastrous lightning marriages, wrote to 
the match-maker : " Send her back to me, or I will 
set your commands at defiance and come and look 
for her in the salons of the Tuileries." 

Napoleon took no notice of this threat. 

Imprudent in her behaviour and conversation, poor 
home-sick Lolotte was likewise imprudent on paper. 
Unfortunately for her, Napoleon, like Queen Marie 

322 



LOLOTTE BONAPARTE IN DISGRACE 

Caroline of Naples, was fond of opening other people's 
letters ; so when he came upon this effusion from Mile 
Lolotte : " Oh ! my little papa, how wise you were 
not to come here ! America would be a thousand 
times nicer, I am sure " — he cried, in anger that his 
kindness had met with such ingratitude : — 

" She shall go ! I never want to hear her name 
mentioned again ! She must leave Paris within 
twenty-four hours." 

No sooner said than done. Mile Lolotte's pretty 
new clothes were flung anyhow into her trunk, and 
before another twenty-four hours had elapsed she had 
shaken the dust of Paris off her feet. 

On clasping the wanderer to his heart, Lucien 
cried : — 

" My child, I have made a great mistake ; but I 
have got you back again, so the harm is repaired." 

In the autumn of 1810 the young ladies of Ecouen 
embroidered a magnificent Court costume and train 
for the new Empress, who had already shown an 
interest in the establishment by begging Mme Campan 
to admit as a pupil a member of a very old French 
family. Mile de Maill^ de Br6ze (later Mme de 
Monthiers). 

It was about this time that Mme Campan met with 
an accident ; while driving with her son on the road 
to Saint-Germain, the horse ran away and the occupants 
of the carriage were flung into a ditch. Mme Campan 
escaped with a few bruises, but her son was so badly 
hurt that he did not recover from the accident for 
three years, 

Mme Campan's ambition was perilously akin to that 
of the Emperor when she now suggested that all 

323 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the girls' boarding-schools in Paris and in the depart- 
ment of the Seine should be abolished by January i, 
1818, and the pupils sent to Ecouen and the other 
Napoleonic educational establishments. Alas ! before 
that date the founder of those establishments had been 
"abolished," and directresses and pupils driven from 
their magnificent abodes. However, Napoleon wisely 
took no notice of her suggestion. 

Mme Campan was much exercised about this time 
concerning the fate of one of her pupils, a penniless 
Mile Bernelle, who nevertheless could boast that nine 
members of her family had obtained the coveted cross 
of the Legion of Honour ; this young lady had been 
engaged for several months to a Captain Guerdin of 
the Imperial Guard. Now Napoleon had lately 
given commands that no officer in this regiment was 
to marry any lady who had not at least one hundred 
louis income. Mme Campan interceded for the 
lovers, and, after many rebuffs, at last obtained the 
Emperor's consent to their marriage. She was less 
successful when she endeavoured to find a position 
for her son Henri, who, should she die suddenly, 
would be penniless ; and yet he was not wanting for 
friends: did not Savary say of him: "There is not 
a public functionary more esteemed and beloved than 
he " ? 

Mme Campan had another anxiety in the person 
of the " all too pretty " Pholo^, whose protector was 
now dead, and whom Maman Campan for the last 
two years had fed, clothed, and educated at her own 
expense. Talleyrand had promised the prince de 
Nassau- Siegen to look after the child's interests. 
This promise, like many others, he promptly forgot, 

324 



MARIE LOUISE VISITS ECOUEN 

and did not even take the trouble to see that the 
legacy of 20,000 florins bequeathed to Pholoe by her 
guardian was paid to her. Realizing that her son 
Henri and the poor little orphan would be almost 
friendless at her death, Mme Campan begged 
Hortense, who had displayed much interest in 
Pholoe, to act as the child's guardian, and to continue 
to pay to Henri, after his mother's death, the salary 
which she had lately been in the habit of receiving. 

On July I, 181 1, Napoleon and Marie Louise 
paid a visit to Ecouen. This time the Emperor came 
with a numerous retinue, consisting of Mmes de 
Montebello, de Montmorency, and Talhouet, the 
prince de Neufchatel, the dues de Frioul and de 
Vicence, marechal Mortier, and the comtes de 
Beauharnais, de Nicolai, and de La Briffe. 

Mme Campan, having been warned of the visit, 
had had time to prepare herself and her pupils. The 
latter, attired in stiffly starched muslin aprons and 
caps, walked in procession through the Salle de 
PEmpereur to the entrance to the chapel, where 
Mile Momet spoke an address to the founder of the 
imperial establishment, who afterwards accorded her 
a pension of 600 francs. 

" This was the only address," says Mme Campan. 
" I was afraid that he would think me presuming if 
any of my own verses were recited." 

The performance of the Domine Salvtmt, sung by 
all the pupils, so pleased the Emperor that he had the 
singing-teacher summoned to his presence, when he 
praised her so that she nearly fainted with emotion. 
He then made a speech beginning with these words : 
" Daughters of my brave soldiers, I salute you ! " after 

325 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

which he asked Mme Campan several questions con- 
cerning the funds in hand. 

M. Fontaine, the celebrated architect, happened 
to be among the Emperor's suite. This gentleman, 
having remarked that Mme Campan's apartment was 
small and dark. Napoleon gave orders that another 
wing should be constructed with a suitable lodging 
for the directress, where she could receive her friends, 
upon hearing which that lady made bold to ask the 
Emperor to order a new pump for the Fontaine 
Hortense, which he immediately did. 

The Emperor then asked her to name her four 
best pupils. At first Mme Campan managed to 
evade a reply ; but Napoleon, after the pupils had 
repeated the dances which had pleased him so much 
on the occasion of his first visit, returned to the 
subject, and this time she was obliged to name not 
four but eight of her best pupils, one of whom. Mile 
Hortode, was in great distress at that time, as her 
father had been taken prisoner at Guadaloup, and 
was now in an English fortress. 

The Emperor was in high spirits. He praised 
everything and everybody. How did the successor 
to the Creole, who always knew what to say, behave .■* 
Mme Campan says : — 

" Her Majesty the Empress made no speeches. 
Although she is a great princess, she seems shy, as 
I could see for myself. I made bold to speak to her 
quite simply as if I had already had the honour of 
meeting her ; she replied graciously. I told her that 
I had prepared milk, fruit, and brown bread for her, 
knowing that her Majesty liked such things ; to 
which she replied : — 

326 



A VISIT TO LA MALMAISON 

"* Another time I will come and partake of some 
refreshment, but not to-day, for I have a headache ; 

1 thank you for the kind thought.' 

" She then told me that she was pleased with the 
six ladies whom I had sent to her from Ecouen.^ . . . 
The children were crazy with delight. They kept 
putting their little feet on the steps and on the stones 
over which the Emperor had walked. Even those 
who cannot sing in tune, and whose voices are never 
heard in chapel, wanted to join in the Domine 
Salvum ; I really thought that the roof would have 
come off! " 

Although Mme Campan for once does not 
mention the inevitable tartlets and creams, we may 
be sure that both these delicacies were included in the 
pupils' menu on that glorious day, when the children 
welcomed "their Father," as they called him, to the 
pleasant home provided by his bounty. 

Mme Campan was naturally flattered by the new 
Empress's visit to Ecouen, but she did not forget her 
old friends. 

Hortense, about this time, had a road made from 
her estate at Saint- Leu to Ecouen, so that she might 
see her "second mother" with greater ease. Mme 
Campan was also invited by the ex-Empress to 
La Malmaison, where she found Josephine sur- 
rounded by her faithful friends and enjoying the 
companionship of her two eldest grandsons, 
Napoleon,^ who was afterwards massacred during 
a riot at Forli, and Louis,^ to be known to history as 
Napoleon iii. 

^ Six of Mme Campari's ex-pupils were in the new Empress's suite. 

2 Napoleon-Louis, 1 804-1 831. ^ Charles-Louis-Napoleon, 1 808-1 873. 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

" The Empress was most kind and quite charmed 
me," wrote Mme Campan to the boys' mother, " I 
must confess that I never imagined that such grace 
and sensibiHty could be united to so much common 
sense. She lives surrounded by a Court which is as 
devoted to her as it can be ; if she no longer shines 
like the sun, at least she resembles the sweet, calm 
star which follows it. I found the princes at La 
Malmaison. Prince Napoleon recited a scene from 
Racine for me ; he took the part of Achille ; the 
exactness of his intonation reminded me of your 
Majesty when you were a child ; his memory is 
prodigious and his manner of speaking is a sure proof 
of his intelligence. As for prince Louis, who had 
lately been told the story of Puss-in- Boots, he had 
thrust one of his little legs into a cardboard boot and, 
whip in hand, was bent upon imitating the hero of 
that romance ; so excited was he, that he ran through 
all the rooms, and would listen to nobody. He is 
really charming with his vivacity, his fresh colour, and 
his resemblance to your Majesty." 

This letter concludes with a request for loo francs 
that she may buy a layette for the child of a poor 
English lady, n^e Cameron, married to a needy 
dmigrd, and already the mother of three children : 
** This lady is very virtuous, is an excellent mother, 
is still pretty, and one can see that she is accustomed 
to good society. Some relatives of mine knew her in 
London nearly twenty years ago." 

The year 1812 was uneventful for Maman Campan 
and her children, except for a visit from Hortense, 
when the latter distributed as a reward to some of the 
best pupils several handsome medals, enamelled with 

328 




Cofiyrig/ii by'\ 



HORTENSE DE BEAUHARNAIS. 
From a painting by R(!granet. 



[I! in It II &^ Co. 



THE HAPPY DAYS OF HORTENSE 

a portrait of the beloved Emperor. These visits 
were the source of as much pleasure to Hortense as 
to the pupils. So warm was the welcome, so truly 
did the children's wishes come from the heart, that 
Hortense, speaking in 1831 of those visits, said : 
"That is the only royalty I ever regretted." 

At last, in June 18 13, Mme Campan seemed 
about to obtain for her son Henri the long-desired 
position. The Emperor, in fact, had actually nomin- 
ated Henri prefect of Amiens, when M. de la 
Tour-du-Pin Gouvernet, backed by some influential 
persons at Court, was given that post in order to 
compensate him for another appointment which he 
had been promised, but had not obtained. And so 
poor Henri, the son of "the celebrated Mistress 
Campan," as she was called in the London and New 
York newspapers of the day, found himself no nearer 
obtaining a suitable position than he had been five 
years ago. 

On June 10, 181 3, Mme Campan's niece, Mme 
de Broc, nde Adele Augui^, was drowned owing to 
her own imprudence while on an excursion with 
Hortense and several other ladies to the cascade of 
Gr^sy, in the valley of Sierroz, near Aix-les- Bains. 
Mme de Broc had been warned not to go too near 
the river, as the bank was steep and slippery ; but 
brushing aside the guide's proferred hand, she 
bounded down the bank ; suddenly her foot slipped 
and, before her companions could save her, she fell 
into the torrent and was swept away. Hortense 
wept bitterly for her beautiful young friend ; when 
the body, after much difficulty, was recovered from 
the mountain-torrent, Hortense had a little monument 

329 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

(which can still be seen) erected to her memory over 
the spot where poor Mme de Broc lost her life, with 
the following inscription : — 

ICI 
MADAME LA BARONNE DE BROC 
Ag6e de vingt-cinq ans, a peri, 

LE lO JUIN, 1813. 

o vous 

qui visitez ces lieux, 

n'avancez qu'avec 

prudence sur ces 

ABIMES ! 

SONGEZ A CEUX QUI 

VOUS 

aiment ! 

Mme Campan, who had acted as mother for so 
many years to the poor young woman, wrote a sad 
letter to Mile Cochelet, Hortense's lectrice : — 

" My dear Louise, nothing can describe the despair 
of her family. Reason, strength of mind, and resigna- 
tion can alone alleviate the pain ; but the wound will 
never close as long as we live. I am writing to the 
queen (Hortense) to-day to beg her to resign herself 
to the severe decrees of Providence, May her health, 
her precious health, suffer no harm, is now my prayer. 
That angel who devoted herself to her while on earth, 
now prays for her in Paradise. Ah ! my dear friend, 
strength fails me to write any more. — Your 
affectionate friend, Genest Campan." 

The year 181 3 brought Mme Campan other 
sorrows, which she pours out to Hortense thus : — 

330 



FRANCE IS INVADED 

*' The Emperor imagines me to be rich, and 
fancies that I have lied to him. . . . My first earnings 
at Saint-Germain enabled me to buy some furniture, 
for my house had been burnt and pillaged. I paid 
my husband's debts to the amount of 30,000 francs. 
War was the ruin of my establishment, and during the 
last five years there I lost 12,000 francs every year. 
When I went to Ecouen I had 60,000 francs of debts. 
Thanks to the kindness of your Majesty and the 
princesses, I have been able to pay off 25,000 francs 
during the last three years, but I still owe 35,000 
francs. I have certain bills which must be paid before 
January i, 1814. I am going to beg your Majesty 
to anticipate your usual New Year present of 6000 
francs and to give it to me now, so that I may pay 
off some of that debt." 

The winter of 18 13-14 was a terrible one for the 
founder of Ecouen and its directress. The Battle of 
the Nations had driven the Emperor back to France ; 
but although forced to resist the allied armies of 
Europe, his genius and the furia francese still 
sustained him. On January 27, 1814, he beat the 
invaders at Saint- Dizier. 

The sub-prefect of Pontoise having invited all 
good patriots to make lint for Napoleon's soldiers, the 
mayor of Ecouen paid a visit to Mme Campan and 
enlisted her help and sympathy ; the usual school tasks 
were laid aside. Mme Campan and her "little bees," 
as M. Mejan so prettily terms them, worked so hard 
that they soon had a huge store of lint, to which 
Hortense, the patroness, was begged to contribute by 
sending all her old linen to Ecouen, so that the girls 
might convert it into bandages and dressings. 

331 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

On February ii, Napoleon won a brilliant victory 
over the Allies at Montmirail ; Mme Campan depicts 
her delight in the following letter to Hortense : — 

"ECOUEN, February 13, 18 14. 

" Notwithstanding all my precautions, alarming 
news was brought to our secluded abode by the 
pupils, but it in no wise troubled our calm existence. 
The lessons went on with the greatest regularity ; not 
a single governess left the institution \ we might have 
been miles and miles away from Paris. I had laid in 
a store of vegetables, flour, eggs, and prunes sufficient 
to last two months in case of any emergency. The 
whole country-side for two leagues round was quite 
convinced that the enemy would inflict the pain of 
death upon anybody daring to trouble the peace of 
these shelters for youth. I myself started that 
rumour ; I was delighted to hear the peasants repeat 
it, for I feared thieves almost as much as I dreaded 
the Cossacks. M. de Lac^pede was so kind as to 
write his approval of my conduct. Our position has 
much changed ; joy is universal. The Etnperor and 
his brave fellows have accomplished miracles, and I no 
longer have any fears for you, Madame, nor for my 
beautiful country. By placing our heads near the 
ground we could hear the cannons thundering ; I think 
we owed this painful privilege to the vicinity of the 
hill, but we afterwards heard something much grander, 
and that was the guns at the Invalides — a sound 
which delighted our hearts. We continue to make 
lint for the department ; we have already made more 
than eighty pounds, but we must now think of 
rejoicings, and I am going to have your Majesty's 
kind present of a roundabout put in order. . . ." 

332 



THE FATHERLAND IN DANGER 

Alas ! the victory of Montmirail was soon to be 
followed by the siege of Paris, and that most cruel 
blow, the treachery of so many of those friends who 
had sworn to be faithful to their Emperor — and per- 
haps had meant it — in the days of prosperity ! During 
those horrible months when France was smarting with 
humiliation for her children's treachery, Hortense 
composed a patriotic song with a refrain : — 

" Entends le cri de tous les cceurs : 
II faut defendre la Patrie ! " 

This song became a great favourite with the 
populace, the Emperor's most faithful friends. Mme 
Campan's son was instrumental in introducing it to 
the town of Toulouse, where he had been given a 
small post. He taught it to some young girls, who 
sang it with such success in one of the chief theatres 
that the prima-donna, to whom he had refused to act 
as singing-master because she was fifty years of age 
and her voice "two or three lustres older than that," 
as Mme Campan quaintly puts it, threatened to put 
poison in his coffee if he ever dared to show himself 
at the cafd which she kept, and where she was always 
to be found when not at the theatre endeavouring to 
reach C in alt. 

Mme Campan did her best to be cheerful during 
those weeks of anxiety ; but the presence of marauders 
armed with the dead soldiers' weapons, who hid by 
day in the woods around Ecouen and came out to 
help themselves to what they could find at night, did 
not reassure her. The peasants formed themselves 
into patrols ; but, as Mme Campan remarked : 
" A picket of mounted soldiers would have been far 
more efficacious than our peasants armed with pikes 

333 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

and sticks. It is the chancellor's duty to protect our 
establishment, and it is mine to warn him when pro- 
tection is necessary, to remain at my post and to care 
for my pupils." 

It would seem as if Mme Campan was fated to 
suffer with France. During the Revolution she had 
seen her house burnt and everything in it stolen or 
destroyed; she now heard that her little farm, "all 
the property I had in the wide world," had been the 
scene of a horrible battle, and that the dear animals 
she loved so well, the agricultural implements, all the 
produce — everything had been burnt by the invaders. 

** I must learn to be resigned," she remarks ; then 
pushing aside her own troubles, she writes to 
Hortense : " The hospitals are in need of lint ; your 
Majesty must send some more old linen to the two 
institutions (Ecouen and Saint- Denis). I have sent 
sixty pounds of lint to the hospital which is now being 
organized at Pontoise. I hear that your Majesty is 
also making a quantity." 



334 



CHAPTER XVI 

Abdication of Napoleon — The Emperor Alexander pays a visit to Mme 
Campan, and makes a strange confession — The queen of Holland 
as duchesse de Saint-Leu — Mme Campan bids farewell to Ecouen 
— She suffers for Napoleon's favours — She obtains ian audience 
with the duchesse d'Angoul^me — Generosity of " Petite Bonne " — 
The Hundred Days' Wonder — The Silver Lilies give place to the 
Golden Bees — Napoleon finds time to review his "httle bees" — 
Farewell to France — The White Terror claims its victims. 

On April ii, 1814, Napoleon abdicated at Fontaine- 
bleau. The day before the " Father " of the daughters 
of the Legion of Honour signed away the power 
which he had won by his own prodigious talents, 
Mme Campan, unaware of the tragedy which was 
about to be enacted, wrote to Hortense, who had gone 
to stay with the ex-Empress at La Malmaison : — 

"... As for us, Madame, we very nearly received 
a visit from the Cossacks who pillaged Sarcelles ; 
luckily I had dispatched a letter on April i to 
General Sacken by the hand of a trusty friend. He 
sent me three men belonging to the Russian army 
and a safeguard written in that language. I had it 
copied and affixed to the gates. We did not see a 
single Cossack. ... I saved many terrified ladies, who 
are now lodging in the institution. Saint-Denis has 
been besieged ; canons were placed on the top of the 
garden-walls. Never would the chancellor have been 
able to persuade me to remain with children and 

335 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

women-folk in a wretched village with cannons going 
off all around us ; he would have been ver\' angry 
with me, but I would never have given in to him. 
Had any harm come to those children, he would have 
been held responsible. Luckily they got off with a 
few shells and bombs which fell into their garden, and 
the}" had to learn their book in damp cellars. Here 
our little ones knew nothing of what was happening." 

Mme Cam pan soon felt the consequences of the 
Emperor's departure. Before another month had 
elapsed she was writing her last letter addressed to 
her Majesty Queen Hortense : — 

" I have so little money to spare for other people, 
that I don't know which way to turn ; for I have to 
wash and feed, dine and sup, three hundred and sixt}' 
persons. As for me, I have not got a sou, and my 
son is l5*ing ill at Montpellier." 

No sooner had Napoleon left France than the 
cspktal was invaded by hordes of inquisitive foreigners ; 
Mme Cam pan received visits from Anglais et Anglaises 
who had heard of the splendid institution at Ecouen ; 
she writes to Hortense : — 

*' They all display interest in your statue and 
portrait when I tell them that the latter represents a 
person who is as amiable as she is virtuous. One of 
them, a commodore or a captain in the navy, whose 
name I do not know, said to me in English : ' We 
know she is a ver\- accomplished lady, and her mother 
die best-hearted lady in the universe ' (^z^). ..." 

The Emperor Alexander of Russia paid several 
visits to the woman whom people were pleased to call 
" Napoleon's victim," the Empress Josephine and her 
dau2"hter, now to be known as the duchesse de Saint- 



A STRAXGE CONFESSION 

Le'j. He also went to see Mme Campan at Ecouen, 
when she thanked him for havincr sent three Russian 
soldiers to protect the daughters of the Legion of 
Honour ; she invited him to stay to lunch, after which 
she took him to see the chapel with the old stone pew 
in which the Constable de Montmorency and his 
wife used to hear Mass, and then they walked up a 
hill overlooking the country where she told him she 
had stood and watched the Battle of Paris ; after 
listening to her in silence, the Emperor made the 
followincr confession : — 

"Had that battle lasted two hours longer, we 
should not have had a single cartridge left ; we were 
afraid that we had been misled, for we had been in 
too great a hurry to reach Paris — and then we had 
not counted upon such stubborn resistance. " 

On bidding his hostess farewell, the Emperor of 
Russia promised to send the pupils some sugar-plums. 
As the days passed by and no sugar-plums appeared, 
the children probably drew comparisons between their 
Emperor, who had always kept his promises to them, 
and the invader. 

However, the postmaster of Ecouen had over- 
heard that promise, and when, some time after this 
visit, Alexander stopped to change horses a: E couen 
on his way to the seacoast, where he was to embark 
for England, the honest postmaster came to the 
door of the Emperor's travelling - carriage and 
said : — 

"Sire, the pupils of Ecouen are still waiting for 
the sugar-plums which your Majest\- promised them." 

The Emperor excused himself by saying that he 
had ordered Sacken to send them ; however, as the 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

children never got the promised treat, it is probable 
that the Cossacks ate them instead. 

In July 1 8 14, Mme Campan wrote the first letter 
addressed to the duchesse de Saint- Leu ; it is a sad 
one, for it Contains the first mention of the rumour 
that Ecouen, like its founder, was about to become a 
thing of the past : — 

"All my poor ladies," says she, "are terribly 
anxious until their fate is decided ; and there are 
some who, on leaving Ecouen, will literally have to 
beg their bread, and others who have not a bed or a 
pair of sheets. My heart is breaking. What an end 
to come to after all I have endured ! However, I 
am well, Madame ; I am learning to be resigned. 
I realize that these troubles are the outcome of two 
revolutions in twenty-five years, and the hot passions 
which have raged over our land." 

A month later and she is writing her last letter 
from Ecouen. Her career of teaching is over ; during 
the years of labour unrequited and the months of 
success, she had brought up and married her nieces, 
two of whom had become mardchales and duchesses 
a la mode de NapoUon\ she had educated 1200 little 
girls, some of whom had made grand marriages. 
Those glorious days of the Empire were already as 
dead and gone as if they had never existed, as if 
France had never shone like a beacon in the world 
of art and science. And Mme Campan, like many 
another, found herself looked upon with suspicion and 
dislike because she had faithfully served that marvel- 
lous man who had saved her native land from anarchy 
and ruin. She was accused of having barbouilU^ 
^ St barbouiller : to smear oneself with anything. 



NAPOLEON'S MARECHALES 

herself with the Bonapartes. So many of those 
returned ^migrettes who had put their pride in their 
pockets and left France in such a hurry when the 
old regime first showed signs of falling to pieces, and 
had lived as titled sycophants at all the European 
Courts, turned up their aristocratic noses at Napoleon's 
mardchales, whose husbands had earned their fortunes 
and titles on the field of honour, and not on the back- 
stairs of a palace, and remarked loud enough to be 
heard : — 

" We do not know those women — they are only 
mardchales ! " 

Mme Campan knew what was in store for her 
when she wrote to " Petite Bonne " : — 

"Because I served the king and Marie Antoinette 
most faithfully, and was loaded with benefits, I 
found that I had won many enemies. I am now 
ruined. I shall endeavour to lead a quiet but useful 
life. You, by your kindness, your fame, of which I 
little dreamt when I received you into my home and 
mothered you — you have aroused a whole army of 
enemies against my poor person. The envious, who 
love neither brilliant talents nor Fortune's favours, 
nor victorious courage nor the manifestations of 
beauty in art, cannot forgive me for having one niece 
a mardchale, another a duchess. , . . Some blame me 
for having professed revolutionary opinions, whereas 
I have never ceased to regret the excesses of the 
Revolution ; others blame me for having brought up 
the beautiful women who adorned Napoleon's Court. 
I shall see the comte de Blacas to-morrow, for all 
Paris must know that my sovereign acknowledges me 
to be an honourable woman ; he 7nust^ for I deserve 

339 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

it, and kings should be just to their humblest 
subjects." 

Mme Campan had to care for other people than 
herself, for she had to provide for the orphan Pholoe, 
who was still waiting for the legacy which the prince 
of Nassau-Siegen had bequeathed to her. Mme Ney 
had been very kind to the girl, inviting her to her 
house on many occasions. In the spring of 1814, 
Mile Pholoe made the acquaintance of a Russian 
diplomatist, Boutikim by name, which acquaintance, 
carefully fostered by Mme Ney, in whose house the 
young people had met, ripened after a few months 
into love. 

A good deed is never wasted ; the seed of kind- 
ness which Mme Campan had scattered with such a 
generous hand in prosperity, blossomed and brought 
forth fruit in the hour of trial. All her friends rallied 
round her ; foremost among these were M. de Lally- 
Tollendal and Eliza Monroe's father, both of whom 
interceded for her to Louis xviii. 

While waiting for her fate to be decided, Mme 
Campan took rooms in a little house outside the walls 
of the Imperial Establishment over which she had 
once ruled as queen ; here she stored what remained 
of the wreck of her fortunes ; it was not much : a 
cracked porcelain cup out of which Marie Antoinette 
had often drunk, a rickety writing-table which had 
stood in her royal mistress's boudoir at Versailles, a 
muslin dress, yellow with age, made from stuff pre- 
sented to the ill-fated queen of France by Tippoo 
Sahib.^ And here she sat for long hours waiting. 

1 Tippoo Sahib, Sultan of Mysore in 1782, resisted the English 
invader, and perished at the siege of Seringapatam in 1799. 



THE DUCHESSE D'ANGOULfiME 

Wherever she looked, both within doors and without, 
she was surrounded by the Past — by her side the 
frail relics of a dead youth ; on the other side of the 
garden-wall, Ecouen, with its old chapel and stately 
park, the once busy hive where Napoleon's little bees 
had learnt their lessons under her motherly eye. 

On hearing that the duchesse d'Angouleme, la 
petite Madame, as Mme Campan had often called 
that unfortunate princess in her childhood, had 
returned to the Tuileries, the old lady, undaunted by 
the cool reception accorded by the duchess to Adele 
de Boigne, one of Hortense's fellow-pupils at Saint- 
Germain, rather imprudently begged for an audience. 
The duchesse dAngouleme's first words were gracious 
enough : — 

" I have never forgotten your devotion to my 
mother ; I know that you were faithful until the end, 
and that your prayer to be allowed to follow her to 
the Temple was rejected ; I have never believed any 
of the slander uttered against you." 

However, when Mme Campan, after describing 
her struggle with poverty at Saint-Germain, went on 
to speak of the difficulties she had experienced, and 
the losses she had sustained while at Ecouen, the 
princess stopped her short with this remark, uttered in 
a peculiarly acid tone : — 

" You would have done better if you had remained 
at Saint-Germain ! " 

Whereupon the audience came to an abrupt con- 
clusion. 

Then the "Petite Bonne" of the days of 
Montague de Bon-Air came to the rescue, sold some 
of her jewels, and, with the proceeds, gave her old 

341 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

friend the first instalment of the pension which she 
continued to pay until the day of her second mother's 
death. 

In June 1814 Mme Campan's health necessitated 
a course of waters at Aix-les- Bains, after which she 
paid a visit to the grandmother of two of her former 
pupils, Alix and Josephine d'Audiffr^dy. 

In the autumn of 18 14 Mile Pholo^ went to 
Vienna in order to be present at the Congress ; here 
she found Boutikim, who acted as her cicerone, and 
presented her to the Emperor of Russia. Before she 
left Vienna, Boutikim asked her to marry him, a 
proposal which Pholo^, whose fortune consisted of 
vague expectations, was delighted to accept ; the 
marriage was celebrated quite as quickly as if 
Napoleon had had the management of the affair. 

Boutikim's influence at Court enabled him to 
obtain the money due to his wife, who now found 
herself possessed of a handsome fortune, some of 
which she might have sent to the lady who had acted 
as mother to her for so many years ; but Boutikim 
forbade her to hold any communications with her old 
friends in France. 

The return to France of Louis le D^sird did not 
produce all the wonderful things which the nation 
had been promised. Too many of the Emperor's 
faithful servants still remained to deplore either 
openly or in secret the departure of their chosen 
sovereign. Even the little pupils of the Legion of 
Honour Establishment at Saint-Denis, which, unlike 
the sister institution at Ecouen, had not been 
abolished, manifested their love for their absent 
Emperor so loudly on the occasion of a visit from the 

342 



THE HUNDRED DAYS' WONDER 

duchesse d'Angouleme, that she vowed she would 
never aofain cross their threshold. 

It was the poor and the humble, those who had 
suffered most for, and reaped less from, the Empire, 
whose joy was most sincere when they learnt that 
the people's Emperor, the soldiers' Emperor who 
once said : " Each wound adds another quarter to the 
escutcheon " — meaning thereby that the titles won by 
bravery on the battlefield were the only ones worth 
having — was once more on French soil. 

" Bon ! bon ! 

Napoleon 

Va rentrer dans sa maison ! " 

cried a humble cantiniere on hearing that Napoleon 
had escaped from his gaolers. And the vieux 
grognards beat time on their knees as if already on 
the march as they echoed : — 

" Nous aliens voir le grand Napoleon 
Le vainqueur de toutes les nations ! " 

A blue-Stocking at Nancy, in a patriotic frenzy, 
seized her pen and flourished off an ode ending with 
the following apostrophe : — 

" Reviens ! reviens ! Cast le cri de la France 
Pour terminer sa honte et sa souffrance ! " 

M. Henri Houssaye, in 1815: Les Cent-Jours, 
paints such a vivid picture of the scenes enacted at 
the Tuileries when the Emperor returned to his own 
again that we can almost see the expressions on the 
faces of the actors in that drama. Faith in Napoleon's 
star, fear lest they should be punished if they stayed 
away, remorse for having accepted favours from his 
enemies, had brought many to the palace ; there were 

343 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Davout, Maret, Lebrun, Daru, none of whom had yet 
been made peers by the Bourbons ; Savary, whose 
loquacity later erased the memory of his bravery ; 
Gaudin, afterwards made governor of the Bank of 
France ; Lavalette, the true ; Thibaudeau, a former 
conventionnel, whose exile in consequence of this act 
of fidelity was to last until the Bourbons again left 
France ; Decres, the admiral ; Regnault de Saint- 
Jean d'Angely, who served the eagle and the eaglet 
with equal devotion ; the comte de S^gur, D6jean, 
Lefevre, Exelmans. . . . While these gentlemen were 
waiting for their Emperor to appear, the Salle des 
Mar^chaux^ the GaUrie de Diane, and the Salle du 
Trone were suddenly invaded by a troop of fair 
women (many of whom had been brought up by 
Mme Campan) wearing their most beautiful clothes, 
jewels, and laces ; they included the princesse 
d'Eckmiihl (Aimee Leclerc) — who said to her husband 
when, on the return of the Bourbons, he found him- 
self hated for his brave defence of Hamburg : " Never 
have I been prouder of the fact that I am your wife " ; 
the gentle duchesse de Plaisance, n^e Sophie de 
Marbois ; the duchesse de Rovigo, the heiress Fdicit^ 
Fodoas ; the comtesse Regnault de Saint-Jean 
dAng^ly ; the comtesse de Lavalette, n^e Emilie 
de Beauharnais, of whom Napoleon said at St. 
Helena : " She, by her conjugal love, has become an 
illustrious woman." 

On reaching the Salle du TrSne^ one of the ladies 
remarked that the silver lilies on the carpet seemed 
as if they had been appliqudd and not woven into the 
design ; bending down, she gave a pull at the 
Bourbon lily, which came off in her hand revealing 

344 



SILVER LILIES AND GOLDEN BEES 

the Napoleonic bee. With cries of delight the ladies 
tore off their gloves, knelt down in their silks and 
satins, and set to work to restore the carpet to its 
former state ; in less than half an hour not a silver 
lily was to be seen, and every golden bee stood out 
clearly on the crimson ground. Their task was just 
finished when a roar of Vive I Empereur I was heard 
in the distance. 

Napoleon's carriage had scarcely entered the 
courtyard of the Tuileries when the Emperor was 
seized by his arms and legs, torn from his seat, 
carried to the door, and borne to the foot of the stair- 
case, while the men, who only two minutes ago had 
seemed as if they were still under the influence of 
some evil dream, cuffed and kicked one another, 
fought like tigers in their fierce longing to touch the 
Emperor's person or his clothes. Caulaincourt, fear- 
ing lest the returned exile should be crushed to death, 
shouted in terror to Lavalette, who was a broad- 
shouldered, powerful man : — 

" For God's sake, stand in front of him ! " 

With a few well-directed blows, Lavalette forced 
his way through the crowd to the foot of the staircase, 
when he turned round with his face to the Emperor, 
and began to ascend the staircase backwards, crying 
as he did so : " It is you ! it is you ! it is you ! " as if 
trying to convince himself that his idol had really 
returned, while Napoleon, with closed eyes, a fixed 
smile on his pale face, and his arms hanging down as 
if he were asleep, was borne up that staircase to live 
the Hundred Days' Wonder. 

The meeting with his faithful Rapp was touching 
in the extreme. The Emperor flung his arms round 

345 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

the neck of the hero of Danzig, held him tightly, 
while he kissed him over and over again, and then, 
with a final pull at the brave fellow's moustache, 
released him with this remark : — 

'' Allans I A brave fellow who had gone through 
Egypt and witnessed Austerlitz could not desert me." 

And then he added : — 

" You and Ney are among the few who are true 
as steel." 

Alas ! he was mistaken in the case of Ney. 

Nobody was forgotten during that brief gleam of 
splendour ; Mme Campan's old heart was filled to 
overflowing when she received a formal promise from 
the man who kept his promises that Ecouen should 
be restored to its former state with " Petite Bonne " 
as the patroness, and all the 375 little girls who 
loved their second mama so dearly, and the 40 
ladies, their governesses, " who loved her so little," 
as she herself remarked. He even found time to go 
down to Saint-Denis, where the " bees " tumbled over 
one another, pushed and jostled each other in a most 
unladylike manner in their endeavours to get near 
their " Father," and, with little cries of ecstasy, 
fingered his coat, stroked his sword, and smoothed 
the nap on the legendary hat. In fact they became 
so riotous that Mme Lozeau had to order them to 
display their joy in a more seemly manner. But 
Napoleon checked her, saying : — 

" Let them alone, don't stop them ; their cries 
may make the head ache, but they warm the 
heart. ..." 

The Hundred Days had come and gone. . . . 

Louis xviii was swifter to show his rancour than 

346 



ARREST OF LAVALETTE 

his gratitude. On July i8, ten days after Napoleon 
had left France for the second time, Lavalette, the 
bravest of the brave, who had been warned of what 
was in store for him, was arrested while dining with 
some friends, and placed in solitary confinement at 
the Conciergerie. His crimes were unpardonable : 
he had refused all favours from the hands of Louis le 
Dhire ; on learning that his Emperor had returned 
to France, he had gone to the Hotel des Postes, 
ordered the director Ferrand, in the Emperor's name, 
to give up his post to him, and had furthermore 
offended the director by presenting him with a pass- 
port for Orleans, whereas Ferrand wanted to join 
Louis XVIII at Lille. Lavalette's affection for his wife 
and child had alone prevented him granting Napoleon's 
request when the Emperor, at La Malmaison, asked 
him to go into exile with him. Lavalette, in refusing, 
had given this reason : — 

" I have a wife, and a daughter of thirteen. My 
wife is expecting another child ; I cannot make up 
my mind to leave her. Give me a little time and 
then I will come to you wherever you are. I was 
faithful to your Majesty in the days of prosperity, so 
you can count upon me. Besides, if my wife did not 
require my presence, I should do well to leave France, 
for I have melancholy presentiments for the future." 

Napoleon understood ; far from being offended or 
wounded by his friend's refusal, he only seemed to 
think more highly of him. 

One author asserts that "people demanded the 
heads of Ney, La B^doyere, and Lavalette." 

What people ? Certainly not the people, always 
ready to recognize a noble deed. The "people" in 

347 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

this case were returned dinigrds, ultra-royalists, 
courtiers of the chameleon species. 

Ney, arrested soon after Lavalette, occupied a 
cell just over that of his rival in the Emperor's affec- 
tions, which was close to the stone-paved prison in 
which Marie Antoinette ate the bread of tears. From 
eight o'clock in the morning until seven at night, 
Lavalette was deafened by the shrieks and oaths of 
women-prisoners in their prison, which was only 
separated from his cell by a wall, The gaolers were 
frequently obliged to part the viragoes. Sometimes 
Lavalette would burst into tears on hearing the strains 
of the flute which Ney, who was passionately fond of 
music, was allowed to play in his cell. This consolation 
was soon taken from him, for Ney's gaolers turned 
prudent and confiscated the flute. 

Mme Ney, once the light-hearted Egle Auguie, 
and her four sons were indeed to be pitied. Mme 
Campan, too, was in sore trouble ; her son had fallen 
ill at Montpellier ; she herself was driven from Paris, 
where food and lodging were too expensive for her 
meagre funds, and forced to go to Bercy. But 
philosophy came to her aid. 

"The noblest and richest, the humblest and 
poorest alike, can content themselves with a cottage. 
Why should we regret the world ? " she asks herself. 
" One thing alone can make us quail, and that is the 
fear of not having enough to buy our daily bread. 
But a soft bed, a good fire, a warm room, a plain 
meal, good books, and two or three friends to prevent 
one finding oneself too often face to face with one's 
own thoughts, which are not always very pleasant 
companions, with fairly good health, one can say : 

348 



A SOLDIER'S END 

* There is a thunderstorm somewhere over the horizon, 
but I cannot see the Hghtning, I cannot hear the 
thunder, the hail cannot harm me ' — and that is much. 
A philosopher once said : ' Let us learn in misfortune 
to appreciate small blessings.' ..." 

It was well known that the duchesse d'Angouleme 
had great influence over her uncle Louis xviii ; it was 
therefore to this strange creature that Mmes Ney, 
de la Bedoyere, and Lavalette, heart-broken at the 
cruel sentence passed on their husbands, determined 
to apply. The case of Lavalette had aroused much 
sympathy ; Baron Pasquler had endeavoured to save 
him, and had assured the due de Richelieu that the 
king would do his own cause more harm than good 
by executing him. But the duchess was inexorable. 
Lavalette's attitude during his trial had been calm 
and manly ; on hearing sentence of death passed 
upon him, he said to his weeping friends : — 

" Mes amis, this is but a cannon-shot ! " 

But when he found himself back in his horrible 
cell, his courage gave way, and he could scarcely find 
strength to write to his friend of former days, Marmont, 
now in favour and obliged to choose his acquaint- 
ances, begging that he might not be guillotined but 
shot by soldiers. On December 7 his gaoler informed 
him that Ney, his old comrade-in-arms, was to be 
shot on the Place de Greve. Again he wrote to 
Marmont : — 

*' We old soldiers think little of death, we have 
faced it so often on the field of honour, but on the 
Greve — oh ! that is too horrible ! In the name of 
our old friendship, do not allow one of your old 
comrades-in-arms to ascend the scaffold. Let a picket 

349 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

of grenadiers finish me off. At least in the throes of 
death, let me imagine that I am about to fall on the 
field of honour ! " 

His request was refused. In order to accustom 
himself to the idea of being guillotined, Lavalette 
made his gaolers describe how the victim ascended 
the scaffold, how the neck was bared, how the body 
was tied to the plank, how long the knife took to do 
its work. . . . He soon had his nerves under control, 
and would say to his wife, who during his trial had 
given birth to the child for whose sake he had 
remained in France, and which had died almost 
immediately : " Why do you weep ? An honest man 
may be assassinated, but his conscience supports him 
on the scaffold." 

Emilie de Lavalette, although at that time so 
feeble that she had to be carried in a sedan-chair to 
her husband's prison, determined to save him ; she 
provided him with some of her own clothes, and took 
his place in his cell, when he was able to escape to 
the house of a friend. When Mr. Bruce,^ a generous- 
hearted Englishman who had already tried to rescue 
Marshal Ney, but had failed, heard of her courage, 
he swore that it should not be wasted, and that he 
would do his best to smuggle her husband out of 
France, which he did, and thus enabled Lavalette to 
reach Bavaria, where Eugene de Beauharnais sheltered 
him until he was able to return to France, where he 
found that his brave wife's brain had given way under 
her afflictions. 

* Mr. Michael Bruce was the nephew of the celebrated English 
explorer. He was afterwards arrested and condemned to three months' 
imprisonment. 



" PETITE MADAME " IS JEALOUS 

Ney, like Lavalette, had been warned to leave 
France ; money had been offered to him, but he had 
preferred to remain in his native land. He was soon 
discovered in hiding in a friend's house, was arrested 
and tried, the celebrated Dupin being his counsel. 
As his comrades-in-arms declared themselves incom- 
petent to form a court-martial, his case was taken to 
the Chambre des Pairs, which of course condemned 
him. The Duke of Wellington nobly took his part, 
protesting that the sentence was contrary to the 
amnesty made at the capitulation of Paris. Mme 
Ney was even less successful in her efforts to enlist 
the duchesse d Angouleme's sympathy than her former 
schoolfellow had been ; the " Petite Madame" refused 
even to see the "Petite Augui6," as she had once 
called her. It was said in her excuse that she, the 
motherless, childless Orphan of the Temple, was 
jealous of Mme Ney's four fine children. 

Ney met death very bravely. When, at half-past 
nine on the morning of December 7, 181 5, the Abb6 
de Pierre entered the condemned man's cell with the 
comte de Rochechouart and two gendarmes, Ney 
greeted him thus : — 

" Ah ! Monsieur le curd, I understand. ... I am 
ready ! " 

The Marshal looked up at the grey sky as he was 
led out to the carriage which was to take him to the 
place of execution, a spot close to the garden-gate of 
the Observatory of Paris instead of the Place de 
Greve as was first arranged, and remarked in a calm 
tone : — 

"What a horrible day!" 

It was one of those cold, misty winter days in 
351 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

Paris, when the dampness seems to penetrate through 
the thickest clothing, 

Ney made the good Abbe get into the vehicle 
first ; " for," said he " I shall presently have to get out 
first." 

Well protected by soldiers lest the populace 
should try to rescue the prisoner at the last moment, 
the carriage stopped a few feet from the Observatory 
wall, when Ney exclaimed : — 

" What ! are we already there ? " 

He had been given to understand that he was to 
be executed on the plain of Crenelle as La Bedoyere 
had been. 

Two hundred persons had assembled to see the 
execution. 

Ney having alighted first, the Abb^ followed. 
The Marshal then handed the ecclesiastic a gold box 
with a request that he would take it to poor Egle 
together with some money for the poor of Paris, The 
Abbe wept bitterly as he embraced and blessed the 
condemned man, after which he retired some paces 
away, flung himself upon the ground, and began to 
repeat prayers for the dead. With the greatest calm- 
ness Ney asked the adjutant how he was to stand, 
and then told the soldiers to aim at his heart. He 
only displayed emotion when the adjutant appeared 
anxious to bandage his eyes and make him kneel 
down to meet Death, Such an indignity was more 
than one of Napoleon's braves could stand. 

" Do you not know. Monsieur," said he, " that a 
soldier should not fear Death, but should meet it 
erect ? " He took off his hat — a broad-brimmed beaver 
in Jerome's picture, The Death of Marshal Ney — and, 

352 



THE DEATH OF NEY 

placing his hand over his heart, began in a clear, 
distinct voice : — 

" Frenchmen ! I protest against my condemna- 
tion. My honour " 

The still air, which had hitherto only been filled 
with the drip, drip of falling raindrops, the twittering 
of sparrows in the garden of the Observatory, and the 
Miserere nos of the Abb6 praying for the soul of the 
Marshal, was disturbed by twelve shots. Ney fell 
dead in the mud at the foot of the garden wall. 

A man stepped out from among the silent crowd 
and dipped his handkerchief in the Marshal's blood ; 
others followed his example. The corpse lay in the 
mud for a quarter of an hour while the Abb^ con- 
tinued to pray for the erring soul which had gone to 
its Creator. M. Gamot, Ney's brother-in-law, now 
appeared, washed the blood from the poor disfigured 
face, and had the corpse carried to the neighbouring 
hospital of La Maternitd All sorts and conditions of 
people, including five hundred Englishmen and many 
of Ney's old comrades-in-arms, came to look at the 
body lying on a white sheet surrounded by lighted 
tapers and watched by Sisters of Charity. 

The broken-hearted EgM Ney retired with her 
children to her late husband's property of Les 
Coudreaux. "Poor Egl^ is horribly altered," wrote 
her aunt, Mme Campan, to Mme Ney's former school- 
fellow, Hortense ; " her grief surpasses anything you 
can imagine." 

During the winter of 1815-16 Mme Campan's son 
also experienced persecution at the hands of the 
Bourbons, being arrested at Montpellier and thrown 
into prison, where he languished for three months and 

z 353 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

suffered such privations that his health was never the 
same again. Luckily his poor mother knew nothing 
of what had befallen him until he, thanks to M. de 
Lally-Tollendal's intervention, had been liberated. 

In February 1816 Hortense, who was now at the 
chateau of Arenenberg, invited her old governess to 
come and open a girls' school near her, promising to 
supply her with funds, and to use all her influence to 
make it a success. But Mme Campan, still suffering 
from the disappointment of having to sell the land 
upon which her pretty farm had once stood in order 
to pay her debts, replied : — 

" It is too late to begin anything new now that the 
end is so near." 



354 



CHAPTER XVII 

Mme Campan moves house for the last time — Her son comes to live 
with her — Her last pupils — Illness and death of her only child — 
She pays a visit to " Petite Bonne " — The finger of Death touches 
her — One of Napoleon's braves — She lays down her burden. 

In March 1816 Mme Campan took a tiny house at 
Mantes, where one of her former pupils, Mile Crouzet, 
had married a Dr. Maigne, and where she hoped to 
spend her last years working in her garden, tending 
her hens and chickens, and comforted by her faithful 
(companion, Mme) Voisin. 

In the following month Mme Campan had the 
consolation of receiving a letter, nominally from the 
duchesse de Tourzel, but probably dictated by the 
duchesse d'Angouleme, whose heart perhaps had been 
touched on hearing of the " Petite Augui^'s " terrible 
grief:— 

" I can quite understand, Madame, the pain you 
feel whenever doubts are cast upon your attachment 
and fidelity to the august princess (Marie Antoinette) 
whom you had the honour to serve. It is with great 
pleasure that I do justice to you by saying that during 
the three years I was with our great and all-too- 
unhappy queen I always saw you eager to show your 
respect and affection. I witnessed the truth that she 

355 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPA:N 

gave you special proofs of her confidence, and that 
you showed discretion and fidelity in divers circum- 
stances. You gave her proofs on the occasion of that 
unfortunate journey to Varennes, and certain rumours 
concerning this event were most unjust. I saw you 
at the Feuillants on the night of August lo present 
to the queen your homage of grief, although you were 
not on duty at that time. I am glad to render you 
this justice, and I should esteem myself happy if my 
letter in some measure could console you for the 
anguish with which your heart is filled. — I remain, 
Madame, yours, etc., 

" Croy d'Havre, duchesse de Tourzel." 

Soon after settling at Mantes, Mme Campan had 
the pleasure of welcoming her son, who, having been 
ill ever since his release from prison, came to try to 
recover his health in the pure air of that little town. 
Like all Frenchmen, his idea of happiness was to 
possess a garden, be it no larger than a pocket- 
handkerchief ; so, as soon as he felt a little stronger, 
he set to work to dig, plant, rake, prune, and sow as 
if his life depended upon it. Indeed, he worked so 
hard that he had a relapse, and had to take to his 
bed. Mme Campan had her hands full nursing her 
son ; her eyes gave her much pain about this time, 
but she bore all her troubles bravely, and wrote to 
Mile Cochelet : " Why should I complain ? My son, 
my friends, the sunshine, the country air which I 
breathe, life itself, mental and physical pleasures, 
make me forget my pains and anxieties ; and when 
the moment comes for me to bid farewell to all, and 
to sink into that slumber which we long for in the 

356 



THE EVENING OF LIFE 

hour of trial, we shall exclaim like the wood- 
cutter : — 

" ' Give me back my faggot ! ' " ^ 

From a message to the Abb6 Bernard, once her 
chaplain at Saint-Germain, now tutor to Hortense's 
sons, we learn that Mme Campan is not so fond of 
church-going as many of her sex are, but she promises 
to go more regularly. One thing she dreads, and that 
is gossip, which she expects to find as rampant at 
Mantes as in Paris. 

In the following letter to her " Petite Bonne" she 

draws a graphic description of the evening of her 

life :— 

" Mantes, April 28, 18 16. 

" We have now been at Mantes for a month ; not 
an hour passes that my son does not endeavour to 
please me, amuse me, make me forget my sadness. 
He reads aloud better than I ever read even in my 
best days. We, good Voisin, he and I, finish our 
evenings round a litde table. My house is small but 
pretty, and adorned with the portraits of my dear 
pupils, so pleasant to my eyes, because they remind 
me of such happy days. I keep my little refuge 
scrupulously clean, although I only have one servant ; 
luckily my good Voisin helps me keep house. My 
garden is in proportion to the house, but fairly pretty, 
and I shall have at least sixty pears and eighty peaches 
this summer. The town is very pretty ; you used to 
pass through it, Madame, on your way to Navarre, 
and I love to think that your eyes have gazed upon 
this bridge and the banks of the Seine. The 

* An allusion to the well-known fable of Death and the W^oodman, 
translated into French by La Fontaine, J. B. Rousseau, and Boileau. 

357 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

inhabitants of Mantes, that is to say, the poorer 
classes, are kind and gentle-mannered. One does not 
hear wrangling on the market-place ; one does not 
see women pulling off each other's caps, no cruel 
mother smacking her son on the doorstep and punish- 
ing him without telling him the why or the wherefore. 
... As for the fashionable folk of Mantes, I have 
thought it better not to try to find out if I am to 
their taste or not. I have only paid official visits. 
The cathedral is magnificent. William the Conqueror, 
during one of his little fits of temper, burnt it down, 
but then repented and had it very handsomely rebuilt. 
... If I had not to think about the horrible remains 
of the debts contracted at Saint-Germain, which my 
son's non-advancement has prevented me paying off, I 
should no longer have any worries as to my expenses 
here ; but I have so little left, and these illnesses have 
cost me so much money that I am very hard up. I 
never could have remained in Paris. . . . Alas ! for 
old affections. Alas ! for old acquaintances. The 
century in which we live has robbed us of all we loved, 
even of the privilege of living near our dear ones, and 
of the hope of meeting again. I work, I sew, I write, 
I make tapestry. I send you by Elisa some little mats 
to preserve mahogany and marble-topped tables from 
tea-stains ; they are invented by my sister Rousseau, 
who is very particular about such matters. ..." 

Mme Campan's old age was brightened by the 
friendship of thirty years' duration of the good Mme 
Voisin, whose education seems to have been somewhat 
neglected, "for," says her mistress, "she reads aloud 
while I sew, and sometimes she says, like the old due 

358 



HER LAST PUPILS 

de Laval, Plutarch instead of Petrarch or even 
patraque^ and that without any wish to ridicule the 
author ; but I have got so completely into the habit 
of changing the words mangled by my reader that 
these little alterations do not put me out in the least, 
because the tone of her voice is very pleasant to 
hear." 

Mme Voisin shared her mistress's worship for 
" Petite Bonne," for Mme Campan says : " Good 
Mme Voisin impatiently awaits your portrait ; she 
was so touched by your letter that she shed tears, and 
she says that she shall immediately have it mounted 
as a breast-pin, 'for,' says she, 'her hands are much 
too ugly to wear any jewellery ' — but what a kind heart 
those ugly paws belong to ! . . . " 

In a letter signed La Vieille de la Cabane, an 
echo of the days of Ney's marriage to her niece, when 
Hortense had been one of the merriest of the merry 
guests, Mme Campan says that she has been obliged 
to go up to Paris for medical treatment, where, 
"during the space of two months, she has had to 
spend eighteen francs every morning in baths, 
douches, and medicines before she swallows her 
early cup of chocolate ! " 

On recovering her health, Mme Campan, with a 
view to earning a little money and at the same time 
satisfy her passion for educating young people, took 
two young English girls, deux charmantes 7niss [sic], 
into her house with the understanding that they were 
to remain with her for five months, during which time 
she would teach them French. 

^ Patraque is said of a person worn out by illness, also of a worn- 
out machine. 

359 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

"Oh! happy days!" she writes in July 1817, 
** when I used to go into my garden at Saint-Germain 
and call : * Hortense ! Egl^ ! Alexandrine ! Adele ! 
Where are you ?'...! and my son feel quite 
lost. . . . My heart feels the need of being sur- 
rounded by young people. Youth represents hope ; 
young people only live, only exist for hope ! This 
sentiment is the sweetest of all, and experience teaches 
us that hope contains the germ of every happiness." 

"Die Hoftnung fiihrt ihn ins Leben ein, 

Sie umflattert den frohlichen Knaben, 

Den Jiingling begeistert ihr Zauberschein : 

Den beschliesst er im Grabe den miiden Lauf, 

Noch am Grabe pflanzt er die Hofifnung auf." 

Mme Campan now proposed to realize what 
remained of her capital in order to pay off the debt 
of 30,000 francs still owing, thereby leaving herself 
with a similar sum to invest for her son who, with 
his bad health and advancing years, had given up all 
hope of obtaining a remunerative position. 

Poor Henri Campan was fated to be disappointed ; 
in order to help his mother, he took the trouble to 
translate Rob Roy into French ; he had just ac- 
complished his task when he learnt from a news- 
paper article that the book had already been 
translated. 

When in 18 18 one of her former pupils. Mile 
Kastner, opened a boarding-school for little girls, 
Maman Campan wrote to her : " Take a tender 
interest in all the poor little things confided to your 
care. Look upon the children with a mother's eye. 
Say to yourself when tending the very little ones : 
' This one has lost her mother ! ' or : ' That one's 

360 



PRINCE OUI OUI 

mother is depriving herself of necessaries for her 
good,' and then add : ' I will act the part of a mother 
to her!' . . ." 

In this same year Mme Campan heard that her 
widowed niece, Mme Ney, was anxious to settle in 
Rome with her children ; this plan the aunt did not 
approve of, but recommended her to send her children 
to a Swiss or German school, where they would learn 
German, which would be more useful to them than 
Italian. 

Mme Campan spent much of her time making 
little presents for her beloved Hortense ; many were 
the small packets sent from Mantes to Arenenberg : 
footstools in the hideous worsted-work of the day, 
knitted quilts, pots of home-made preserve, and 
recipes for puddings, which she thinks " Prince Oui- 
Oui " ^ will find toothsome. 

Eliza Monroe, now happily married in America to 
a Mr. Hay and the mother of a little daughter 
baptized Hortense Eugenie after Eliza's two play- 
fellows at Saint-Germain, did not forget her old 
governess, and many were the letters which she wrote 
to Mantes, although she found that, for some reason 
or the other, they frequently miscarried or were 
intercepted. 

"Tell my dear Hortense and my poor Egle," 
writes she after a request to Mme Campan to send 
her a portrait of her old governess, " that my thoughts 
have often been with them in their troubles. Tell 
the former that nine years ago I gave birth to a little 
daughter, who is luckily much prettier than her mama, 
for she has my mother's eyes and features. Tell her 

^ Hortense's second son, Napoleon-Louis. 
361 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

that we consider that the greatest honour we can 
show a person is to ask them to be sponsor to our 
children ; at the time of my child's birth, my father 
and mother took upon themselves to act for my 
daughter as if they had already obtained the per- 
mission of my dear schoolfellow and her estimable 
brother. The child bears their two names. We, at 
the same time, sent Mr. Morris with dispatches from 
our Government to pay our respects, and inform them 
of what we had done ; but we received no reply. . . . 
My little daughter often talks about her godfather 
and godmother. I have ventured to ask them to 
send me good copies of their portraits, which shall 
belong to my child. Times have changed, not so 
my affection ; friendship should remain untouched by 
the things of this world, and my daughter will be 
honoured for ever on receiving these two portraits, 
which will be the most beautiful ornament in her 
room. ..." 

It was at Eliza Monroe's request that her father 
wrote to M. Hyde de Neuville begging him to 
interest the due de Richelieu in favour of Mme 
Campan's son ; but again the past of Marie 
Antoinette's former waiting-woman rose up and stood 
in the way of advancement. 

Although the memory of Ecouen was fatal to 
Mme Campan's interest in some quarters, this was 
not always the case ; for she found that her former 
teachers were in great request, as were her pupils, 
many of whom were now forced to earn their 
daily bread. "Ah," said she, "how my heart bled 
when I heard that one of the little girls whose 
petticoats I once used to mend and whose religious 

362 



DEATH OF HER ONLY CHILD 

and moral principles I once carefully guarded, was 
covered with a pauper's rags ! " 

During the spring of 1820, Mme Campan learnt 
that Louis xviii was about to bestow several small 
pensions of 2000 francs upon Marie Antoinette's former 
chief waiting-women ; her endeavours to persuade the 
duchesse de Luynes to speak for her met with no 
response. Was not Mme Campan too fond even 
now of asserting with pride : "I educated nearly all 
the imperial princesses ! " ? 

In August, Henri Campan had a slight stroke 
of paralysis which greatly alarmed his mother, and 
forced her to acknowledge that, even supposing he 
ever obtained the long-expected appointment, he 
would probably not be able to accept it. Needless 
to say that the efforts of Davout, Macdonald, and 
M. de Lally-Tollendal to obtain for him the post of 
librarian at one of the three public libraries in Paris 
came to naught. Thinking to comfort their old 
friend, Hortense and Eugene promised to continue to 
pay to Henri after her death the pension which she 
owed to their generosity. But Fate was to annul 
that promise. 

Early in January 182 1, Henri went up to Paris, 
where he caught a bad chill which settled on his 
lungs ; enfeebled by his late illness he, at the end of 
four or five days, had only just sufficient strength left 
to scribble off a few lines to his mother — his last 
letter, for two days later he was dead. 

Dr. Maigne, the husband of Mme Campan's 
former pupil, gives an account of the scene enacted 
in the little house at Mantes when Maman Campan 
learnt that the son who had never given her a day's 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

anxiety or caused her to shed a single tear, had gone 
to prepare the way. 

"I have never beheld," says he, "a more heart- 
rending scene than that which I witnessed when the 
mardchale Ney, her niece, and Mme Pannelier, her 
sister, came to tell her the terrible news. She was 
still in bed when they entered the room. All three 
immediately uttered piercing shrieks. Her two visitors 
flung themselves on their knees and began to kiss her 
hands. They had no time to tell her anything ; she 
read in their faces that she no longer had a son. 
Her big eyes began to roll, she turned pale, her face 
became distorted, her lips white. From her mouth 
issued broken phrases, accompanied by piercing cries. 
She seemed to lose all control over her limbs and 
speech. Every particle of her being was racked with 
grief. This unhappy mother seemed on the point of 
suffocating. Tears alone were able to calm her agony 
and despair. The impression I received that day will 
last as long as I live." 

In future her one desire was to join her son in 
Paradise. Can anything be sadder than this letter 
written by her to one of her friends ? 

" You knew the kind, good son for whom I am 
now weeping. Alas ! our habits, our lives become 
very mechanical. ... He was often away from home ; 
sometimes I fancy he is still in Paris ; then the illusion 
suddenly fades and I cry : ' Not absent, but lost ! 
lost for ever ! ' And then I remember that I shall go 
to join him. Oh ! my God ! " 

She found consolation in gazing at the portrait of 
her lost child. "Genuine sorrow," said she, "finds 
consolation in contemplating the portraits of our dear 

364 



A LONELY OLD AGE 

ones. I do not believe in the grief of those who 
refuse to do so." 

Three days after his death she herself wrote to 
tell Hortense, who was then at Augsburg, what had 
befallen her : — 

" Mantes, /anuafy 29, 1821. 

•* Madame, I am still alive, and yet I have lost 
him for whom I lived ! I ceased to be a mother on 
the 26th of this month. Behold my sorrow ! but my 
broken heart still loves. . . . Alas ! I call Henri ; he 
no longer hears me, he no longer replies. He sleeps 
side by side with the brave fellow (Ney) who has 
already been joined by his father-in-law, his brother-in- 
law, his cousin. Henri had just spent six months 
with me ; he was about to return home altered, 
crushed, but as intelligent as ever, and having 
cultivated his mind beyond anything you can imagine. 
What a loss I have sustained in my old age ! He 
was the ever-vibrating chord in my heart and soul. 
How perfectly we understood one another! How 
dearly we loved one another ! Tell the prince 
(Eugene) that he has lost a faithful and enlightened 
friend. Rank and education do not prevent us 
appreciating our true friends — you know that, Madame. 
Strength fails me to write more. EgM and Mme 
Pannelier are with me. I send you my love and my 
respects." 

Before many months had passed Mme Campan felt 
the first symptoms of the disease — cancer — which was 
to re-unite her to her beloved son. She guessed what 
was the matter with her, for she wrote to Hortense : 
" I still hope that Providence will spare me those 

365 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPA:N 

dreadful pains which always terminate in a horrible 
death." 

The doctors recommended a cure at Baden ; the 
prospect of combining a visit to " Petite Bonne " 
with that cure kept her occupied until the month of 
July. 

" I have many little parcels for you, Madame," 
she writes to Hortense, "and also for princess 
Augusta (Eugene's wife) ; they have been packed very 
carefully. I am grieved to keep you waiting. A 
pretty umbrella standing in my room makes my heart 
ache when the rain begins to patter against the 
window-pane, for nothing could be more seasonable. 
. . . Mme Lacroix has brought me some more articles ; 
all the light ones are already stowed away in a box 
which is suspended beneath my chariot ; but I vexed 
the poor creature by refusing two dozen chemises. 
A very painful operation has been performed on my 
leg with a view to dispersing the humours, and my 
limb will have to get a little better before I can think 
of starting. You can guess what is the matter with 
me. Alas ! they are anxious to keep my old machine 
in working order, and I am thankful to think that it 
can still carry me as far as Baden." 

The physicians had recommended that Mme 
Campan's leg should be cauterized in order to reduce 
the inflammation in her breast, where cancer had 
declared itself. As soon as she was strong enough 
to travel she went to Baden in Switzerland, where 
the cure was brightened by the presence of Hortense, 
who, when the baths were finished, took her old 
governess to Arenenberg, and kept the invalid with 
her until October. The memory of those happy hours 

366 



JOHN BULL ON HIS TRAVELS 

was to brighten Maman Campan's last moments. 
She left Arenenberg in better spirits than she had 
been since Henri's death ; from Schaffhausen she 
wrote quite cheerily : — 

" I saluted Arenenberg from the opposite side of 
the lake. I cried : * Oh, peaceful spot, I shall look 
upon you again some day ! ' This thought alone 
prevented tears from making an unwelcome appear- 
ance. ... I met Mme de L and her children, who 

happened to be changing horses just as I arrived at 
the first stage after Constance. They stopped like 
me at the Boat Inn, but they went off without dining. 
They were quite English in their behaviour and 
bawled out : ' Bring us a dinner at forty sous a-head 
in our own rooms, or we will go to another inn.' 
Whereupon the waiter replied in a calm voice : 
* Well, then, be off with you ! ' However, they are 
an agreeable family. The English travel for three 
reasons : firstly, because they want to economize ; 
secondly, because they want to be amused ; thirdly, 
because they wish to learn ; it is quite proper that 
they should attach the greatest importance to the 
first reason, economy, which in most cases is the 

cause of their presence abroad. Mme de L seems 

determined to spend the winter at Augsburg ; she and 
her children will make very pleasant drawing-room 
furniture ! " 

In another letter Mme Campan gives an account 
of a very strange meeting with the cousin of the 
generous Englishman, Bruce, ^ who had helped 
Emilie de Lavalette to save her husband : " I slept 
last night at Laufenburg in a very pretty inn. A 
^ See page 350. 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMP AN 

few minutes before sitting down to supper, the inn- 
keeper's wife came to ask me if I would allow two 
Englishmen, whom I had just seen arrive in a very 
elegant equipage, to sup at my table. I accepted. 
We sat down to table. The oldest asked the 
youngest : " What do you think of that old lady ?' in 
English. I immediately said to them in the same 
language : ' Gentlemen, I think I shall be obeying 
the rules of good society when I tell you that I have 
spoken your language since my childhood.' Where- 
upon the Englishman began to rattle off his English 
as quickly as we French rattle off our language. I 
asked where they were going ; the eldest replied to 
Munich or to Florence ; and I saw by his indifference 
as to where he went that he was tormented with the 
mania for travelling from which those dear English 
(sic) suffer. However, all roads lead to Rome, and 
they can get there quite well via Saint Petersburg. 
The younger Englishman reminded me of Mr. Bruce, 
only he was much handsomer. I mentioned that 
gentleman's name, whereupon the elder said : ' This 
gentleman is the cousin and friend of Mr. Bruce.' 
I begged him, when he saw Mr. Bruce again,^ to give 
him the best wishes of a Frenchwoman who is deeply 
attached to him. Other remarks made me think 
that the elder gentleman was tutor or paid guide to 
the younger : the latter is Scotch and his name is Mr. 
Cuningham ; the former is English and is named 
Conway." 

The return to the little home at Mantes was very 
painful to Mme Campan. Soon after her return she 
was advised by the doctors, who still hoped to cure 
her, to have her other leg cauterized. This treatment 

368 



THE END IN SIGHT 

having had no effect, Mme Campan was informed in 
November by Dr. Voisin, a celebrated surgeon and a 
namesake of her faithful companion, that she would 
have to undergo the horrible operation so touchingly 
described in Rab and his Friends. It was in the 
deepest mental and physical distress that she wrote to 
tell her beloved pupil : — 

" Madame, before you receive this letter I shall 
have undergone an operation which I could not avoid 
without running the risk of a cancer in the breast. The 
gland has hardened and become more painful ; we 
must not give it time to form into an abscess, which 
would mean certain death. We women-folk can only 
show heroism in our homes ; we can only hope to 
earn praise by being resigned, and by not pushing 
ourselves forward. I shall have need of all my 
courage ; I will be brave. It will be a hard morning's 
task, but Voisin assures me that I shall soon be well 
again. He considers that the malady was caused by 
the great shock, and that it was not in the blood. 
The operation lasts two or three minutes. He thinks 
that my health has been much improved by that 
charming visit, and indeed he is quite right : the good 
which it did to my spirits has influenced my whole 
existence. . . ." 

She longed yet dreaded to see her tumour, " that 
horrible stone in my garden " as she called it, re- 
moved. Poor Mme Voisin, the faithful companion 
of so many years, was quite broken by her friend's 
illness, and could neither sleep nor eat, so that Mme 
Campan became seriously concerned for her health. 

Poor Mme Campan was trying hard to walk in 
the footsteps of those braves who had so often faced 
2 A 369 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

death, "her comrade," as she called the Last 
Messenger, " whom we will chase away ! " 

The weather becoming suddenly very cold, the 
surgeons decided to postpone the operation. During 
those days of waiting the invalid received a visit from 
the comte Christian de Nicolai, the husband of one 
of her former pupils, to whom she, realizing that the 
end was near, gave one of her most precious souvenirs 
— a lock of the great Emperor's hair. In December 
her mental anguish nearly brought on an attack of 
brain fever, and again the dreaded operation had to 
be postponed. But twenty leeches and as many 
blisters reduced the fever, so that on the last day of 
the old year (182 1) she was able to scribble a few 
lines to Hortense : — 

** I should like to write to the prince (Eugene), 
but I am not strong enough. My illness has been 
very severe ; the leeches, the blisters, and especially 
the quinquina, pulled me round. They promise me 
that I shall recover. I must end now, for the buzzing 
in my head has begun again." 

The day before undergoing the operation Mme 
Campan confessed and received Holy Communion, 
after which she wrote to Hortense begging her, " in 
case heaven should dispose of me," to see that Mme 
Voisin did not come to want, and ending with a 
prayer that her dear pupil would take care of her 
health and not strain her eyes. 

Up to the last minute she was conversing calmly 
with her doctors, MM. Voisin and Maigne. 

"Gentlemen," said she, "I much prefer to hear 
you talk than to see you at work. The time has 
come to give battle ; I think my head is quite clear. 

370 



ONE OF NAPOLEON'S BRAVES 

I shall see what a strong will can do, and whether 
pain will be able to quell my spirit. It was my spirit 
which forced me to remain in the Tuileries on 
August lo. The blood and the cries terrified me, 
but I kept cool, and I could have given some very 
good advice during the siege. . . . Come, don't let us 
be behindhand ; everything is ready. Set to work. 
I long to be able to speak of the operation as of 
something that is past and over." 

Her sister, Mme Pannelier, her good friend Mme 
Voisin, as well as one of her nieces, were with her 
during the operation, in the course of which she turned 
pale as death and showed slight signs of the cruel 
pain she was enduring, but not a cry or groan escaped 
her lips. Indeed M. Heymes, one of Napoleon's 
braves and formerly aide-de-camp to Marshal Ney, 
who assisted at the operation, seemed much more 
affected than her, and at one time appeared on the 
point of fainting. 

After the operation, M. Maigne remained with 
his patient until nightfall. When her doctors hinted 
a few days later that she might have to take some 
sulphurous baths to complete her cure, she worried 
herself as she lay in bed wondering whether she 
would be able to pay for them. On February 17, 
1822, she dictated the following letter, her last, to her 
" Petite Bonne " :— 

" Madame, dear, good, amiable, adored and 
adorable Madame, I cannot yet write to you, but I can 
dictate, and that is a great deal. I am still on my back 
drinking whey and — for a pleasant change — a little 
chicken broth. I have just fought a terrible battle on 
the borders of life. I had guessed what it would be^ 

371 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

and I needed courage. The operation was very 
cleverly done, but it was extremely painful. I needed 
an example of physical and mental strength, so I got 
a colonel in the artillery, M. Heymes, to hold me. 
The poor fellow was bathed in perspiration. He said 
that he would far rather have assisted at four battles ; 
I can quite believe him. . . . They all try to see who 
can cosset me the most. I should suffer very little if 
the wound had not been attacked by rheumatic pains. 
... I fancy I see Arenenberg again, but I also see 
you starting for Italy in September while I return 
along the road to Mantes. They are scolding me for 
dictating such a long letter ; but I still want to say 
something more. If you see the prince (Eugene) I 
beg you, Madame, to speak of me to him, and tell 
him that I am itne brave, that I saw my blood flow 
without fainting, and that I have submitted to a 
regime of lint and bandages just like all those poor 
braves who gathered so many laurels under his com- 
mands. I know how that dear little ' Prince Oui- 
Oui ' has felt for me in my pain and suffering ; I can 
see his little eyes full of tears — they have soothed my 
wound. Adieu, Madame, they are screaming at me, 
they are scolding me ; but I hope in a fortnight to be 
able to do what I want, and that will be to adore you 
and to tell you so until my last hour." 

The letter is unsigned. Scribbled at the bottom 
of the page are these words: '' Mme Campan cannot 
sign her name.'' 

" Toutes les heures nous blessent, la dernilf^e nous tueP 

The wound healed, but complications appeared, 
and very soon the patient's breathing became 

372 



SHE SETS HER HOUSE IN ORDER 

laboured. Knowing that she had not long to live, 
she made her will. To two servants, Chenier and 
Genevieve, who, she said, had become like members 
of the family, she left presents of money, while to 
Mme Voisin she bequeathed her dearest possession, 
a portrait of " Petite Bonne." 

Mme Voisin's grief was pitiable to behold. " Be 
brave ! " the dying woman whispered to her, "death 
cannot part two such true friends as we have 
been ! " 

On the day of her death she begged for the 
window to be opened. It was one of those mild days 
in March when all Nature seems to rejoice at the ap- 
proach of spring. The sky was as blue and the air 
as sweet and fresh as it had been at Arenenberg. 

"Ah!" she murmured towards nightfall to Dr. 
Maigne, "the air to-day reminds me of Switzerland. 
'Tis the evening of a beautiful day, troubled but by 
few clouds. How glad I am that I went to Switzer- 
land ! I spent two months of perfect happiness there. 
Hortense has a beautiful disposition ; we understand 
one another so perfectly ! " 

Her last message was for " Petite Bonne." 

She died the same evening (March i6, 1822). 
She was laid to rest in the cemetery of Mantes, a 
monument consisting of a white marble column 
surmounted by an urn in the style of the period 
bearing a simple inscription being erected by members 
of her family. 

Mme Voisin wrote immediately after her friend's 
death to Hortense, telling her that Maman Campan 
was no more : — 

" She loved you dearly, Madame, and until she 

373 



THE CELEBRATED MADAME CAMPAN 

drew her last breath her eyes never ceased to gaze at 
your portrait which stood at the foot of her bed." 

Mme Voisin soon followed her old friend and was 
buried in the same grave. 

" Death arrives graciously to such as sit in 
darkness or lie heavy burthened with grief, ... to 
despairful widows, pensive prisoners, and dethroned 
kings ; to them whose fortune runs back and whose 
spirits mutiny — unto such death is a redeemer and the 
grave a place for retiredness and rest." 



374 



INDEX 



d'Abrant^s, duchesse (Mme Junot), 
197, 211, 214, 222, 285. 

Adelaide, Mme de France, lo-ii, 
14-23, 38, 61, 81, 90, 124, 183. 

d'Agoult, M., 78. 

Aisse, Mile, 282. 

Albanesi, M., 14. 

Alberoni, Giulio, 3. 

Alexander i, Emperor of Russia, 

336-337, 342. 
d'Alvimare, Martin Pierre, 278. 
Anacharsis, 45. 
d'Aneucourt, M., 273. 
d'Angoul^me, duchesse (Madame 

Royale), 53-54, 64-65, 92-93, 

128, 165, 175, 342, 349, 351, 

355-356. 
Anquetil, Paul, 289. 
d'Arenberg, Prosper-Louis, prince, 

312-313. 
d'Artois, Charles Philippe, comte, 

37, 88-89, 92, 131, 179, 183. 

— comtesse, 38, 51. 

Asturias, prince of the. See 

Ferdinand vii of Spain. 
d'Aubier, M., 142. 
d'Audiffredy, Alix, 292, 342. 

— Josephine, 292, 342. 
Augereau, Pierre Frangois Charles, 

205. 
Augui^, M., 47, 160, 172, 177, 188- 
190. 

— Adelaide, 47, 94, 96-97, 128, 

130-131, 160, 171-174, 177- 
178, 188-190, 269. 



Augui^, AdMe (Mme de Broc), 190- 
192, 195, 206, 216, 218, 223, 
290, 293-294, 329-330, 360. 

— Antoinette (Mme Gamot), 190- 

192, 275-276. 

— Egle (Mme Ney), 190-192, 195, 

269-271, 281, 288, 290, 340, 

348-349, 351-353, 355, 359- 

361, 364-365. 
Augusta-Amelia of Bavaria, 285, 

366. 
d'Aumont, Alexandre, 109. 

— Jacques, 109. 

d'Aux, Mme. See Eliza de Lally- 

Tollendal. 
d'Avout de Montjalin, M., 262. 

Baden, Charles Louis Frederic, 

grand-duke of, 285-287. 
Bailly, Jean Sylvain, 107. 
Baliviere, Abbe de, 92. 
Baret, Father, lo-ii. 
Barnave, Pierre Joseph Marie, 115, 

132-133, 140, 144, 149-150. 
Barras, Paul Francois Jean Nicolas, 

195. 
Barry, Mme du, 31. 
Barthe, Nicolas Thomas, 13. 
Barthelemy, comte E. de, note, 21. 
Baudeau, Abbe, 38. 
Bavaria, Maximilian-Joseph, king 

of, 320. 
Beam, Jeanne Louise de, 4-8. 
Beauharnais, Claude ll de, 244- 

246. 



375 



INDEX 



Beauharnais, Emilie de (Mme de 
Lavalette), 195, 198, 207-215, 
234, 269, 288-289, 344, 347-350, 
367. 

— Eugene de, 195-196, 198, 209, 

249, 261, 285, 320, 350, 363, 
365, 370, 372. 

— Fanny de, 207, 245. 

— Hortense de, 32-33, 45, 

195-198, 203-209, 215-217, 
219, 222-226, 235, 240-243, 
246-247, 249, 253-255, 261, 
263-264, 266-267, 271-284, 
286, 289-296, 31 1-3 1 2, 320, 
327-336, 338-339, 341-342,346, 
354, 357-363, 365-367, 369- 
374- 

— Stephanie de, 244-247, 265, 272, 

281-282, 285-287, 291, 312. 

— Claude, comte de, 325. 

— marquis de, 205. 

— Mme de, 207-208, 212-213. 

— Josephine de. See Josephine. 
Beaumetz, M. de, 95, 119-121. 
Beauvau, marechale de, 217, 306. 
Beguin, M., 273. 

Belle- Isle, Charles Louis Auguste 

Fouquet, marechal de, 8. 
Benezech, Mile, 278. 
Bernard, Abbe, 273, 357. 
Bernelle, Mile, 325. 
Berthier, Alexandre, 274, 325. 
Bertholet, Pierre, 34. 
Berlin, M., 27. 

— Rose, 40-41, 51, 247. 
Bertrand, M., 206. 

Blacas d'Aulps, Casimir, comte de, 

339. 
Blennerhassett, Lady, 22. 
Boehmer, M., 66-77. 
Boigne, Ad^le de, 123, 341, 
Bonaparte, Caroline (Mme Murat), 

196-198, 205, 207, 210, 220- 

222, 224-225, 229, 266, 276, 

281, 288, 292, 320. 



Bonaparte, Christine Charlotte, 
231-234,250,297-298, 321-323- 

— Christine Egypta, 231. 

— Elisa (Mme Baciocchi), 231, 

358. 

— Jerome, 198, 241, 261, 265. 

— Joseph, 231, 254. 

— Louis, 207, 210, 253-255, 266, 

271, 289. 

— Lucien, 230-231, 234, 241, 254, 

297-298,321-323. 

— Madame Mere, 197, 231, 268, 

322. 

— Napoleon. See Napoleon. 

— PauHne (Mme Leclerc), 196-197, 

205, 255. 
Bonesi, M., 224, 226. 
Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, 200. 
Boubers, General, 252. 
Boufifiers, Stanislas, Chevalier de, 

290. 
Bouille, Frangois Claude, marquis 

de, 116-117. 
Bourgogne, Louis, due de, 200. 

— Marie Adelaide, duchesse, 18- 

19, 22. 
Bourjolie, Nelly, 265, 287. 
Bourrienne, Louis Antoine, 254. 
Bourset, M. de, 84-85, 
Boutikim, M., 340, 342. 
Boyer, Christine (Mme Lucien 

Bonaparte), 230-232. 
Breteuil, Louis Auguste le 

Tonnelier, baron de, y2>i 7 St 

78. 
Brienne, Etienne Charles Lom^nie 

de, 30, 
Briffe, comte de La, 325. 
Briges, M. de, 165. 
Brinvilliers, marquise de, 113. 
Broc, marechal de, 290, 293. 

— Mme de. See Adele Auguid. 
Broglie, marechal de, 92. 
Broves, vicomte de, 170-17 1. 
Bruce, Michael, 350, 367-368. 



376 



INDEX 



Cahir, Lady, 264. 

Calonne, Charles Alexander de, 
86-88, 138. 

Cameron, Miss, 328. 

Campan, M..pere, 35-37, 39, 43-45, 
54-55. 66, ^l, 93, 96, 98, 127, 
129-132, 135-136, 179-180. 

— M., 33, 36, 56-57, 92-93, 191. 

— Mme, birth and education, 2- 

14 ; accepts her first situation, 
1 5-28 ; becomes lectrice to the 
Dauphine, 32 ; marries, 33 ; 
becomes waiting - woman to 
Marie Antoinette, 36 ; birth of 
her only child, 79 ; goes to 
Mont Dore, 129 ; loses her 
father-in-law, 135 ; visits the 
royal prisoners at the 
Feuillants, 173 ; is arrested, 
189 ; released from prison, 
190 ; opens a seminary at 
Montagne de Bon-Air, 192 ; 
receives many pupils, 194 ; is 
appointed directress at Ecouen, 
295 ; loses her post, 338 ; 
death of her son, 363 ; her own 
illness and death, 365-374. 

— Henri, 79, 83-84, 128, 179, 195, 

250-251, 261, 277, 284, 291, 
323-325, 329, 333, 336, 353- 
354, 356-357, 360, 362-365, 
367. 

Camus, Armand Gaston, 173. 

Canino, prince de. See Lucien 
Bonaparte. 

Caprera, J. B., Cardinal, 266. 

Carbonnel, M., 278. 

Cardon, Mile, 5-8. 

Castellane, Louise de, 275-276. 

Castellux, Mme de, 124. 

Catherine, Empress of Russia, iii. 

Caulaincourt, Auguste Louis, 
marquis de, 345. 

Cayla, Mme du. See Zoe Talon. 

Celles, Mme de, 274. 



Chamant, comte de, 39. 
Chamilly, M. de, 178. 
Champcenetz, chevalier de, 39, 54. 
Charles I, king of England, 154- 

155- 
Chaumaurie, M., 290. 
Chaumont-Quitry, comte de, 312- 

313- 
Chenier, M., 373. 

— Marie Joseph, 117. 
Chimay, princesse de, 277. 
Choiseul, Etienne Francois, due 

de, 9, 217. 
Civrac, duchesse de, 22. 
Clarke, Henri Jacques Guillaume, 

244. 

— Mile, 244, 273. 

" Clotilde, la Belle," 244. 
Cochelet, Louise, 330, 356. 
Collot, M., 220. 
Collot d'Herbois, Jean Marie, 1 16- 

117. 
Conde, Louis Joseph, prince de, 

92. 
Conti, Louis Frangois Joseph, 

prince de, 92. 
Coquille, Mile, 208. 
Corvisart-Desmarets, Jean Nicolas, 

275-276. 
Courtin, Elisa de, 292. 
Craufurd, Quentin, 140. 
Cromwell, Ohver, 121. 

Damiens, Robert Francois, 11-13. 
Daru, Pierre Antoine Noel Bruno, 

comte, 284, 344. 
Davout, Louis Nicolas, 256-262, 

312, 344, 363- 

— Louis Napoleon, 262. 

— Paul, 262. 

— Mme, 206, 255-262. 
Decr^s, Denis, 344. 
Decret, M., 149. 
Dejean, M., 344. 
Delavigne, Casimir, 292. 



m 



INDEX 



Delille, Jacques, 290-291. 
Desmoulins, Camille, 106. 
Diet, M., 168-169. 
Dubreuil, Dr., 227-229. 
DucMtel, Mme, 281. 
Duclos, Charles Pinot, 14. 
Ducrest, Georgette, 255. 
Dumouriez, Charles Francois, 145- 

146. 
Duphot, Li^onard, 244. 
Dupin, Andre Marie Jean Jacques, 

351- 
Dupont de Nemours, Pierre 

Samuel, 117. 
Dupuis, Celenie, 266. 
Durfort, marquise de, 22. 
Duroc, Michel, 241-243, 277, 293. 

Edgeworth, Maria, 238. 
Elisabeth, Mme de France, 18, 22. 

— Mme, 102, no, 133, 159-160, 

163-168. 
Esterhazy, comte, 54. 
d'Exelmans, Isidore, comte, 344. 

Favras, Thomas Mahi, marquis 
de, 107-108. 

— Mme de, 107-108. 

Fenelon, Francois de Salignac de 

Lamothe, 199-202. 
Ferdinand ill, grand-duke of 

Tuscany and grand-duke of 

Wiirzburg, 321-322. 

— VII, king of Spain, and prince of 

theAsturias, 297, 321-322. 
Ferrand, Antoine Francois Claude, 

347. 
Fesch, Joseph, 198, 300. 
Fleischmann, Hector, 278. 
Fleury, Andre Hercule de, 19. 

— comte de, 39. 
Fodoas-Barbazan, Felicite (Mme 

Savary), 253, 261, 288, 344. 
Fontaine, Pierre Frangois Leonard, 
326. 



Forbin, M., 278. 

Fouchd, Joseph, 228-229. 

Fouquet, Nicolas, 8. 

Francis ll. Emperor of Germany, 

144. 
Frangois ll, king of France, 295. 
Friant, Louis, 258. 

Gamin, Frangois, 157-158. 
Gamot, Charles, 275, 353. 

— Mme. See Antoinette Auguid. 
Gasson, Mme, 322. 

Gaudin, Michel Charles, 344. 

Gauthier, M., 137. 

Genest, Edme Jacques, 3-9. 

— Edmond Charles, 2, 96, 137- 

139, 143, 147, 186-187. 

— M.^ere, 3-15. 
Genevieve, 373. 

Genlis, Mme de, 2, 274, 294. 

Gentil, M., 154. 

Georgel, Abbd, 78. 

Georges, M., 252. 

Gerard, Etienne Maurice, 274. 

Girardin, Stanislas Xavier, comte 

de, 298. 
Goldoni, Carlo, 14. 
Golowkine, Fedor, comte, 276. 
Gorsas, M., 125-126. 
Gougenot, M., 180-185. 
Gouges, Olympe de, 185. 
Grasset, M., 204, 226. 
Gueffre, Mme, 216. 
Guerdin, Captain, 324. 
Guistal, princesse de, 28. 
Gustavus III, king of Sweden, 62- 

63. 

d'Haga, comte. See Gustavus ill, 

king of Sweden. 
Hamel, Ernest, 95, 97, 161, 187. 
Hamelin, Mme, 289. 
Hardivilliers, Mile, 35. 
Hauser, Kaspar, 287. 
Hay, Hortense Eugenie, 361-362. 



378 



INDEX 



Hay, Mr., 361. 
Heine, Heinrich, 300. 
d'Henin, princesse, 217. 
Henri ll, king of France, 295. 
Henriette, Mme de France, 18. 
d'Hervilly, Louis Charles, comte, 

165. 
Heymfes, M., 371-372, 
I'Hopital, Mme de, 227-229. 
Hortode, Mile, 326. 
Houssaye, Henri, 343. 
Hue, Francois, 178. 
Hulot, Mme, 248-249, 267-268. 

— Eugenie. See Mme Moreau. 

d'Inisdal, comte, 109-110. 
Isabey, Jean Baptiste, 204, 215, 270- 
271, 292. 

— Miles, 250, 292. 

Jadin, Hyacinthe, 226. 

Jerome, M., 352. 

Joseph II, Emperor of Germany, 
41. 

Josephine, Empress of the French, 
43, I9S-I99> 205-208, 212, 223, 
225-227, 232-234, 241-242, 
245-247, 253, 258, 261, 267- 
269, 273-274, 276, 279, 281, 
286, 292, 312-313, 327-328, 
335-336. 

Junot, Mme. See duchesse 
d'Abrantes. 

Kastner, Mile, 360-361. 
Kosowska, Christine, 292. 

La Bedoy^re, Charles Huchet, 
comte de, 347, 349, 352. 

— Mme de, 349. 

Lacepede, Etienne de la Ville, 
comte de, 299, 310, 314-316, 

318-319, 332, 334-336. 
La Chapelle, M. de, 147-148, 157. 
Lacroix, Mme, 366. 



Lafayette, Marie Joseph Paul, 
marquis de, 87, 96-97, 107, 
115,119. 

La Ferte, M. de, 160-161. 

La Harpe, Francois de, 60. 

Lally-Tollendal, Eliza de, 244, 290. 

— Gerard, marquis de, 217, 244, 

290, 340, 354, 363. 

— Thomas Arthur, 244. 
Lamartine, Alphonse Marie Louis 

de, 22. 
Lamballe, Marie Therese de, 47, 

104, 121, 132, 146, 178. 
Lambesc, Charles Eugene de 

Lorraine, prince de, 92. 
Lameth, Alexandre de, in, 133, 

144, 183. 
Lamotte-Valois, Mme de, 76-79, 

loi, 140. 
Langle, Frangois Marie, 204, 
Lannes, Jean, 205. 
Laporte, Arnaud de, 136, 143. 
La Roche-Aymon, Mme de, 175. 
La Rochefoucauld - Liancourt, 

Frangois Alexandre Frederic, 

due de, 88. 
La Tour-du-Pin Gouvernet, M. de, 

329- 
Laval, due de, 359. 

— Mme, 319-320. 

Lavalette, Marie Joseph Chamans 
de, 210-214, 234, 344-345, 

347-351, 367- 

— Mme de. See Emilie de 

Beauharnais. 

— Josephine de, 288-289. 
Leblond, Anna, 244. 
Lebrun, Charles Frangois, 344. 
Leclerc, Victor Emmanuel, 205, 

255-257. 

— Louise Aimee Juhe (Mme 

Davout), 206, 255-262, 269, 

344- 
Lefebvre - Desnouettes, Charles, 
comte de, 198. 



379 



INDEX 



Leffevre, Frangois Joseph, 344. 

Leger, M., 205. 

Lenormand, Mme, 312. 

Leonard, M., 40-41, 58, 102-105. 

Leopold II, Emperor of Germany, 
144. 

Leroy, M., 288. 

Lezay-Mamdsia, M. de, 246. 

— Mile de, 245. 

Loliee, Frederic, 286. 

Lolive, Miles, 221. 

Louis XV, king of France, 2, 9-13, 
16-19, 22, 26-29, 34-35- 

Louis XVI, 30-31, 38, 58-62, 66- 
68, 75-81, 86-89, 94-98, 102, 
108-1x2, 122-123, 130, 133- 
137, 140, 142-143, 146-150, 
152-163, 171, 174, 178-186, 

199. 339- 

Louis-Joseph, first Dauphin, 58-62, 
65, 82-85. 

Louis XVII, second Dauphin, 121- 
122, 128, 133, 152, 165, 167- 
168, 175-176, 187, 198-199. 

Louis XVIII (Monsieur, comte de 
Provence) 2, 37, 79, 107, no, 
183, 275, 340, 342, 346-347, 

349, 363- 
Louis, Abbe, 132. 
Louise, Mme de France, 17, 19, 

25, 27-29, 64, 80. 
Lozeau, Mme, 346. 
Lully, Jean Baptiste, 14. 
Luynes, duchesse de, 175-176, 

217. 

McDermott, Father, 195. 
Macdonald, Etienne Jacques 

Joseph Alexandre, 363. 
Mackau, Antoinette de, 265, 287. 
Maigne, Dr., 355, 363, 364, 370, 

373- 
Maille de Brdze, Mile de, 323. 
Malesherbes, Lamoignon de, 183, 

185-186. 



Malseigne, M., 116. 
Mandat, M., 164-165, 172. 
Manherbes, Clementine de, 234- 

235- 
Marat, Jean Paul, 31, 126. 
Marbois, Sophie, 244, 344. 
Marchand, M., 125. 
Maret, Hugues Bernard, 344. 
— Mme, 288. 
Marie-Antoinette, 2, 29-32, 34-35, 

57-77, 79-115, 1 17-122, 127- 

169, 171-179, 181, 183-184, 

187-189, 192, 194, 207-208, 

217, 277, 284, 339-340, 348, 

355-356, 362-363. 
Marie Caroline, queen of Naples, 

322-323. 
Marie Christine, archduchess, 150. 
Marie Leczinska, 15, 31, 35. 
Marie Louise, Empress of the 

French, 323, 325-327. 
Maria Theresa, 31-32, 38, 75, 103. 
Marie-Therese-Felicite of France, 

18. 
Marmont, Auguste Frederic Louis 

Viesse de, 349. 
Marmontel, Jean Francois, 14. 
Marsilly, M. de, 151. 
Marx, Colonel, 278-279. 
Masson, Frederic, 192. 
Maurepas, Jean Frederic Phelip- 

peaux, comte de, 86. 
Maury, Abbe, 125. 
Mejan, Jean, 331. 
Menara, Hervas de, Mile, 265. 
Menou, Jean Francois, 125. 
Mercy - Argenteau, Florimond, 

comte de, 38. 
Mesmer, Franz Anton, 55-58. 
Mirabeau, Honord Gabriel Riquetti 

de, 159, 183. 
Misery, Mme de, 39. 
Molleville, Bertrand Antoine 

marquis de, 151. 
Momet, Mile, 325. 



380 



INDEX 



Monroe, James, 265-266, 281, 340, 
362. 

— Eliza, 265-266, 274, 280-281, 

340, 361-362. 
Montebello, Mme de, 325. 
Monthiers, Mme de. See Maille 

de Brdze. 
Montmorency, Anne de, 295, 297, 

337- 

— Mme de, 325. 

Montmorin de Saint-Herem, 
Armand de, 124, i34-i35> i43. 
183. 

Moreau, Victor, 205, 248-249. 

— Mme, 248-249, 267-268, 
Morel, M., 173. 

Morris, Mr., 362. 

Mortier, M., 325. 

Mozin, M., 206, 

Mun, comte de, 241-242. 

Murat, Joachim, 205, 220-222, 266. 

— Mme. See Caroline Bonaparte. 

Napoleon Bonaparte, 43, 145, 195, 
199, 205-206, 209-213, 216- 
223, 227-231, 241-243, 245- 
249, 252, 254-257, 259-260, 
266-270, 275-277, 279-289, 
291-300, 303-305, 311-327. 
329, 331-333. 335-336, 339, 
341-348, 352, 370. 

Napoleon Louis, 271-272, 274, 
290, 327-328, 361, 372. 

Napoleon ill, 203, 327. 

Narbonne, Louis de, 22-23, 124, 
126. 

— Mme de, 22-23, 124. 
Nassau-Siegen, Carl Heinrich, 

prince von, 282, 324, 340. 
Nattier, Jean Marie, 24. 
Naundorff, 199. 
Necker, Jacques, 107. 
Nerac, M. de, 197. 
Neuville, Jean Guillaume, Hyde 

de, 362. 



Ney, Michel, 269-271, 288, 346- 

353, 359, 365. 

— Mme. See Egle Auguie. 
Nicolai, Christian, comte de, 325, 

370. 

— comtesse de, 232, 370. 
Noailles, Alfred de, 197. 

— Leontine de, 197. 

— Mme de, 31, 39-40. 

Nord, comte du. See Paul I of 

Russia. 
Noue, M. de, 11 5-1 16. 

Orange, prince of. See William 

Frederick. 
d'Orleans (Louis Philippe ll, 

Philippe Egalite) due, 91. 

— duchesse, 49. 

Pagerie, Stephanie Tascher de La, 

247, 282, 312-313. 
Pannelier, Mme, 194-195, 364-365, 

371- 
Piris-Duverney, Pierre, 35, 
Paris, Mile, 9-1 1. 
Pasquier, Etienne, 349. 
Paterson, Miss, 265. 
Paul I, Emperor of Russia (comte 

du Nord), 62. 
Pauligni, Mme, 215. 
Petion, Jerome, 133, 161-162, 165, 

169, 177-178. 
Petrarch, 359. 
Philip, duke of Parma, Infante of 

Spain, 18. 
Pholoe, Mile, 282-283, 290, 324- 

325. 340, 342. 
Pierre, Abbe de, 351-353. 
Pitt, William, 140-141. 
Pius VII, Pope, 297. 
Plantade, M., 278. 
Plato, 202. 
Plutarch, 359. 
Poix, Antoine Claude Dominique, 

prince de, 54, 118-119. 



381 



INDEX 



Poix, princesse de, 217. 
Polignac, comtesse Diane de, 41, 
92. 

— due de, 92. 

— duchesse de, 41, 84, 89-90, 92- 

93- 
Pourtales, Fritz, comte de, 274. 
Provence, comte de. See Louis 

XVIII. 

— comtesse de, 38, 49, no. 
Prudhomme, Louis, 137. 

Racine, Jean, 13, 328. 
Rapp, Jean, 312, 345-346. 
Ravaillac, Francois, 13. 
Raymond, Pauline, 197. 
Rayneval, Jean Gerard de, 138. 
Recamier, Juliette, 215. 
Regnault de Saint-Jean d'Angely, 

344- 

— Mme de, 344. 

Richelieu, Armand Emmanuel du 

Plessis, due de, 349, 362. 
Robespierre, Maximilien, 115-116, 

179-180, 190, 192. 
Rochechouart, comte de, 351. 
Rochon de Chabannes, 13. 
Rcederer, Paul Louis, comte de, 

162, 166-167. 
Rohan, Louis Rene, prince de, 71- 

72, 74-79. 

Chabot, due de, 306. 

Mile de, 306-307. 

Rolier, Lavinie, 198. 

Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 14, 238. 

— M., 163, 167. 

— Mme, 194, 358. 

— Agathe, 274, 280. 

Sacken, Fabian von der Osten, 

prince, 335, 327. 
Saint-Alphonse, Mme Wathier de. 

See Antoinette de Mackau. 
Saint-Elme, Bourboulon de, 280. 

— Mme de. See Agathe Rousseau. 



Saint-FIorentin, Louis Phelypeaux, 

comte de, 10- 11. 
Saint- Huruge, marquis de, 90, 91. 
Saint-Lambert, Francois, marquis 

de, 263. 
Saint-Simon, Louis de Rouvroy, 

due de, 104. 
Saint-Souplet, M. de, 166. 
Salvert, M., 165. 
Santerre, Claude, 107-108. 
Sauce, M., 132. 
Savary, Rene, 261, 324, 344. 
Scepeaux, comte de, 224. 
Segur, Louis Philippe, comte de, 

138, 344- 
Serre, Mile de La, 12-13. 
Simon, Antoine, 199. 
Sophie, Mme de France, 17-ig 

24-25, 27, 60. 
Soulavie, Jean Louis Giraud, 157. 
Stanislas, king of Poland, 115. 
Stendhal, 259. 
Stryienski, Casimir, 24. 
Sutherland, Duchess of, 176. 

Talleyrand - Perigord, Charles 
Maurice de, 283, 286, 324-325. 
Talon, M., 224, 227-228. 

— Mme, 229. 

— Zoe (Mme du Cayla), 224, 227, 

229. 
Talouet, Mme, 325. 
Tarente, princesse de, 169, 175. 
Thibaudeau, Antoine, 344. 
Thibaut, Mme, 173. 
Thiebault, General, 278. 
Thienon, M., 205. 
Thierry, M., 173. 
Thomas, Antoine Leonard, 13. 
Thompson, Mr., 263. 
Tippoo Sahib, 340. 
Tourzel, Mme de, 93, 178, 217, 

355-356. 

— Pauline de, 178. 
Turquan, Joseph, 209. 



382 



INDEX 



Valadon, M., 177-178. 

Valence, Miles de, 274. 

Vatel, 63. 

Vaucher, Mile, 264. 

Vaudreuil, M. de, 41. 

Vendome, Louis Joseph, due de, 

3- 
Vergennes, Charles Gravier, comte 

de, 86, 138. 
Vergniaud, Pierre Victurnien, 168. 
Verigni, M. de, 234-235. 
Vermond, Abbe de, 30-31, 35-37, 

41-42, 75) 92-94- 
Vicq d'Azyr, Felix, 112-113, 129. 
Victoire, Mme de France, lo-ii, 

14-20, 123-126, 183. 



Victor, General (Victor Perrin), 265. 

— Victorine, 265, 273. 
Villeurnoy, M. de, 107. 
Voisin, Dr., 369-371. 

— Mme, 187, 355, 357-359. 369, 

371, 373-374- 
VriUifere, due de, lo-ii. 

Welhngton, Duke of, 351. 
William the Conqueror, 358. 
William Frederick, prince of 

Orange, 218-219. 
Wordsworth, William, i. 
Wiirzburg, grandduke of. See 

Ferdinand ill, grand-duke of 

Tuscany. 



383 



Printed by 

Morrison & Gibb Limited, 

Edinburgh 



